


Promise

by EllsKay



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, May Or May Not Include Major Character Death, SnowBaz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-09-24 03:41:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 30,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9698006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllsKay/pseuds/EllsKay
Summary: Agatha overhears Simon and Penny talk about helping Baz find his mother's killer and she tells the Mage. To stop them from finding out the truth, the Mage starts a vampire hunt and Baz is declared dead. Now Simon is torn between his loyalty to his mentor and the promise he made to his once-enemy.





	1. The hunt

**Author's Note:**

> I've finished Carry on back at Christmas and it sent me into a fanfiction frenzy :P This is the first fic I'm posting about Simon and Baz, so let me know what you think. I admit, around halfway through the book I was pretty sure this was how it was going to end. It didn't go the way I expected and, even though I liked the original ending, I thought I'd share with you my own version. I hope you like it!

Chapter 1: The hunt 

**AGATHA**

I’m standing outside the Mage’s office, wondering if I’m making the right decision.

Well, what else am I supposed to do?

I just overheard my friends talking about working with Baz. _Baz._ The guy Simon has been trying for years to prove that he’s an evil vampire plotting his downfall. And now he’s helping him?

I can’t just do nothing. It’s obvious that Baz is up to something. But I have no desire to get mixed up in this. So, I’ll let the adults handle it. And the only adult I know who can stop this is the Mage.

I take a deep breath and I knock.

“Yes?”

I open the door and enter warily. The Mage is sitting behind his desk, scribbling on a notebook furiously. There are at least a dozen books open in front of him. He doesn’t look at me.

I clear my throat. “Sir? May I have a word?”

He glances at me once before turning back to his notebook. “I’m very busy at the moment, Miss-” 

“Wellbelove.”

“Right. So, unless it’s important…”

“It is, sir. It’s- It’s about Simon.”

That gets his attention. He stops writing and looks at me. “Take a sit.”

I sit on a chair opposite him, feeling really nervous. I have never talked with him before. The Mage never pays much attention to the students in Watford. Except for Simon, of course.

“Tell me. What’s the problem?”

“Well… I happened to overhear a conversation between him and Penny…” I pause, expecting him to berate me for eavesdropping.

“Go on,” he says.

“Well, what I heard… It worried me. They were saying…” I take a deep breath. “Simon was saying that he had promised Baz something.”

The Mage leans forward on his desk. “Mr. Pitch? What did he promise him?”

“He promised him that he would help him find who killed his mother.”

The Mage stares at me, stunned. “But everyone knows who killed Natasha Grimm-Pitch. It was the vampires who attacked Watford.”

“I don’t know what they meant. But that’s what he said. And now they’re working with Baz! Sir, you have to stop them!”

“Why do you want me to do that?”

“Because Baz is evil! I’m sure he’s up to something! And he’s a vampire!”

The Mage leans even closer, his eyes intent. “Do you have proof for that, Miss Wellbelove?”

I swallow. “Well, I- I saw him feed once. In the Wavering Wood. The day Simon and Penny were kidnapped by the Humdrum.”

His eyes light up triumphantly and the corners of his mouth curve a little upwards. It makes me nervous.

“Thank you, Miss Wellbelove,” he says. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of this. You can rest assured that Simon will be safe from Mr. Pitch from now on.”

Once I’m out of his office, I exhale deeply. I feel a little bad for telling the Mage about what I saw Baz do in the Wavering Wood. He had made me promise I wouldn’t say anything. But I had only made that promise because of that ridiculous crush I had on him. And if Baz gets kicked out of Watford, that will mean one less danger for Simon. _And_ for everyone else.

I convince myself I did the right thing.

 **BAZ**

I check my watch. I’m supposed to meet Snow and Bunce in five minutes at our room to work on my mother’s death.

I sigh. This seems hopeless.  We’ve searched half the books in the library. We haven’t found much else about the day of the attack and there wasn’t a single mention to someone named Nicodemus. It pains me, but I’m seriously starting to think that this is doomed to fail. But I owe it to her to at least try. I need to finally bring her peace.

And, of course, I don’t mind spending this much time with Snow. I know this will end at some point. That the truce will be off and then we will go back to hating each other. But still, I can’t help hoping that maybe, just maybe…

I’m such a fool. I know it. But isn’t everyone who’s in love a fool?

I’m standing up. It’s time to go meet them. (And I also have to go get food from the kitchens, because Snow cannot function without his stupid cherry scones.) Dev and Niall, with whom I was sitting at the Lawn, look up at me surprised.

“Are you late for a date or something?” asks Niall.

They both know I don’t date. They probably think that I’m too stuck-up – that I don’t think any girl is good enough to go out with Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch. They don’t have a clue that I’m queer. Or that I’m in love with my nemesis.

I sneer and open my mouth to retort. But suddenly something else gets my attention.

The Mage and his Men have just crossed the drawbridge and are now striding down the Lawn. And they’re heading straight at me.

I stare at them, puzzled. What does _he_ want?

“Basilton Pitch!” he yells with an authoritative voice. “Stay where you are!”

I freeze for a second. The Mage’s expression is really unsettling. He looks at me like I’m his prey.

That bad feeling in my gut is proved right when I see his men drawing wands and pointing them at me.

_Shit._

I take my wand out and turn to run.

**_“Stand your ground!”_ **

I’m frozen on the spot. My feet are stuck to the ground and I can’t move an inch. And the Mage’s Men are getting close.

 ** _“Get a move on!”_** I yell desperately, even though I know that my magic is no match for the Mage’s. But somehow, it works. Free from the spell, I start to run like hell.

I try to figure out where to run. I can’t get out through the gate – it’s guarded. I can’t run to the drawbridge - the Mage and his Men are in the way.

So I head to the only other place I can think of. The Wavering Wood.

**SIMON**

Baz is late. And he had promised to bring food.

Penny and I have already started going through the books she brought from the library (all the while trying to ignore the loud rumbling sound coming from my stomach) when I hear someone shouting from outside.

“Simon!”

I jump on my feet and go to the window. Agatha is outside Mummers House. Her hair is disheveled like she ran the whole way here and I think she’s crying, though it’s hard to tell from up here.

“Agatha? What is it?”

“Simon, please come down here!”

There’s no doubt. She’s crying.

“Are you okay?”

“Just come down! _Please_!”

I whip around and start running out of the room, Penny following me. We stomp down the stairs and then we’re outside.

I freeze when I see her. From up close she looks even worse. She throws herself on me and starts sobbing really hard on my shoulder.

“Agatha! What is it? What’s wrong?”

“I- I’m so- I’m so sorry, Simon!” she manages between sobs. “I- I did something terrible!”

“It’s alright,” I say soothingly. It breaks my heart to see her like this. “I’m sure you didn’t mean to do something bad.”

She lets me go and looks at me with an intense look on her face. “I had no idea that this would happen! You have to believe me! I didn’t think he would go this far!”

“Agatha, calm down,” says Penny steadily. “Tell us what happened.”

She takes a shaky breath. “I- I told the Mage that you and Baz are working together.”

“ _What?_ ” I take a step back from her, stunned. “Why- How did you even _know_ -”

“I overheard you and Penny talk about it. But listen- I also told him that he’s a vampire!”

“Well, Simon’s told him that a thousand times,” says Penny softly, trying to calm her down. “He has never taken him seriously.”

“But I told him that I saw him feed in the Wavering Wood!”

“You _what_?”

“I’m so sorry, Simon! I had no idea- I thought the Mage would just throw him out of Watford…”

My whole body tenses and a chill creeps up my spine. “ _Just_ throw him out?”

Her face crumbles and she buries it in her hands. “H-He hunted him down to the Wavering Wood. Simon-”

“Where is he?” My heart is pounding in my chest as I wait for her answer.

“Simon, I’m so sor-”

“Where. Is. He.”

I can read the answer in her eyes. But I don’t believe it.

“He’s dead, Simon.” She starts sobbing even harder. “Baz is dead.”

* * *

I don’t think I’ve ever run this fast in my life. 

The girls didn’t follow me. When I took off like I was being chased by monsters, Penny hesitated because at that moment Agatha’s knees gave away and she collapsed. Before she could decide if she should stay and help Agatha or come with me, I was already gone.

I’m running towards the ramparts. I don’t bother to go to the drawbridge. Instead, I **Float like a butterfly** over the moat like Baz did the day the dragon attacked Watford. Of course, it doesn’t go as planned. (My spells rarely do.) I end up flying over the moat, then the football pitch and then to the edge of the forest, where I land on the ground unceremoniously with a loud _thud_.

I don’t even register the pain. I just bolt upright and keep on running.

All the while, I try not to think about what Agatha said – not even the _possibility_ that it could be true.

_Baz isn’t dead. He somehow tricked Agatha into believing this and now he is laughing at me for falling for it._

I repeat that over and over in my head. I almost believe it.

But then I catch the smell of smoke in the air. I’m actually hoping that it’s coming from me – that I’m going off. But no. It’s coming from the depths of the forest.

_No, no, no, no…_

I continue running. I find it hard to breathe and my heart is pounding. My vision is blurry and it takes me a little while to realize that it’s because of the tears running down my face.

I come to a sudden stop.

I have finally found the source of the smell. The trees here are black and charred and still smoking. All I see is smoke and ashes.

I fall on my knees.

I can’t deny it anymore. Someone lit a fire here. And vampires are flammable. If Baz was close, there’s no way he survived it.

Baz is dead.

_Baz is dead._

And now I’m really smoking. I look down and I see that I’m shimmering.

I’m going off and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.


	2. An empty bed

**SIMON**

“Simon. Simon, please, you can’t stay here for ever.”

Penny’s voice seems to be coming from very far away. I don’t understand the words. I barely register the gentle tug on my arm.

I’m still in the forest, curled up on the ground, right in the center of the circle of destruction caused by my going off. I’ve been like this for at least an hour. I haven’t moved an inch all this time. My whole body is aching and numb but I still don’t move. I’m convinced that, if I move, I’ll start thinking again. I’ll start thinking about the fire, about Baz being…

 _No._ I’m not thinking about that.

“Simon, please, I’m begging you. The drawbridge will be up soon. We need to get back.”

 _Go away,_ I want to tell her. _I just want to be alone for a little while._

But deep down I know she’s right. I can’t stay like this forever. Sooner or later I’m going to have to deal with this. I was just hoping I could put it off a little while longer.

“Simon?”

I exhale. Slowly, I sit up. Penny is sitting next to me, her hand still on my arm.

“Are you okay?” she asks tentatively.

I don’t answer, as I’m too busy looking around. The moon shines bright above and its silver light falls effortlessly on the forest floor now that the trees are gone. I feel a sharp pang of guilt as I look at the destruction I’ve caused. I think I’ve taken out about a fifth of the forest. And that’s only because the Mage and his Men managed to stop the fire from spreading with a cascade of **Make a wish** es. I had only focused long enough to hear the Mage say that no one had been hurt before I slowly drifted off again. I think the Mage had tried to convince me to go back to my room as well but I didn’t pay any attention to him. I really couldn’t even look at the man at that moment. Not after…

Penny stands up. “Let’s go back,” she says softly and extends her hand to me. I take it and she pulls me up.

I follow her out of the Wood mechanically. I’m not really paying attention to where we’re going. We cross the bridge and the inner gates in silence. Then, instead of heading off to the Cloisters, she comes with me to Mummers House.

I freeze when we reach the door. We’re going to the room. _Our_ room. Which, from now on, will be just _my_ room. My eyes sting and a painful lump forms in my throat. For the first time, I realize exactly what all of this means.

I will never share a room with Baz again. I’ll never see him sneer at me. He’ll never plot against me again.

Baz is gone.

Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch is dead.

* * *

 

I’m crying in my bed. Penny’s arms are wrapped around me, trying to soothe my sobs. My chest hurts and my throat is sore but I can’t stop crying. I don’t even know why I’m crying. Baz wasn’t my friend. He wasn’t my anything. He was a jerk, a bully – my enemy. The fact that we were on a truce didn’t mean anything had changed between us.

I always knew one of us would die eventually. You know – with all this trying-to-kill-each-other business. But I never stopped to think about what would happen afterwards. (Maybe because I always thought he’d be the one finishing _me_ off. Because, let’s face it, he has always been a better magician than me. And he is – _was_ – a vampire.)

I never stopped to think about what life would be like without him.

But I do now. And the truth is – I can’t even _imagine_ what life will be like from now on. He is – _was!_ – such a big part of my life… He was always there – constantly present. Whether as an annoying buzz in the background of my life’s stage or as a very real threat to my well-being right in the forefront. Even when he wasn’t here, he was always in my mind, as I was constantly wondering what he was plotting. But he’ll never plot anything ever again.

Now… Now he’s just an empty bed.

Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch is just an empty bed. I want to laugh but it comes out as a strangled sob.

After a couple of hours of non-stop sobbing I’m out of tears. I’m exhausted – an absolute wreck. Penny still has her arms around me, whispering words of comfort that my brain can no longer process as I sink into a deep sleep.

I dream of Baz – of that night that he made the stars shine in our room.

We’re sitting on his bed. I’m holding his hand, pushing my magic to him.

“Okay?” I ask him quietly.

“Fine. What are you doing?”

“I don’t know. Opening? I guess?”

I’m watching his face. It tenses for a couple of seconds, like he’s in just-bearable pain, but then it relaxes again.

“Still okay?”

“Grand.”

“What does that mean – does that mean you could use it?”

He laughs – and it’s a very different sound from the one I’m used to hearing from him. It’s not a mocking laugh, or a bitter one. It’s more spontaneous, softer – genuine.

“Snow. I think I could cast a sonnet right now.”

“Show me.”

**_“Twinkle, twinkle little star! Up above the world so high!”_ **

I gasp. The walls of our room disappear. Now it’s just me and Baz holding hands on his bed, floating between the stars. I grab Baz’s other hand, as if I’m falling through space and I need something to hold on to.

“Merlin and Morgana,” I whisper. “Are we in space?”

“I don’t know.”

“Is that a spell?”

“I don’t know.”

We’re looking at the stars, twinkling like Christmas lights. I feel great. My magic isn’t exploding all around me or running uncontrollably out of my pores. It flows like a stream, all through my arms and hands and then to him. His cold hands are slowly warming up in mine as he’s absorbing my magic.

“Are you holding back at all?” he asks.

“Not consciously. Is it too much?”

“No, it’s like you completed the circuit. I feel kind of drunk, though.”

I frown. “Drunk on power?”

He giggles. Baz Pitch actually _giggled_. “Shit, Snow. Stop talking. This is embarrassing.”

“Do you want me to pull back?”

“No. I want to look at the stars.”

This time I don’t pull back. He looks at the stars and I’m looking at him. I don’t think he’s ever looked more beautiful than in this moment. He isn’t scowling or sneering. His usually sharp and cruel features are softened by a bright smile. His face glows silver in the starlight and his eyes gleam, looking happy. _Alive_.

I lean closer to him, drinking in his beautiful and happy features. He snatches his gaze away from the stars and looks at me a little quizzically. But there’s also a spark of anticipation in his eyes. Not realizing exactly what I’m doing, I cup his face in my hands and kiss him.

**PENELOPE**

I can’t believe how peaceful Simon looks right now.

He was sobbing so hard a few minutes ago. He was bound to fall asleep from the exhaustion at some point, but I thought he’d be tossing and turning all night – maybe even _screaming_ from the horrors of a terrible nightmare.

Instead, he is sleeping like a baby in my arms, with a calm and peaceful expression on his face. He’s even smiling now. I’m wondering what he’s dreaming about.

I sigh. Poor thing. It’s not like I wasn’t at all affected by the news. It’s always terrible when someone dies so young, and we’ve spent so much time together lately… I don’t think of him as my friend or anything, but I did respect him. He is – _was_ – such a brilliant and powerful mage. It’s just such a pity. I actually shed a few tears myself.

But Simon… He spent seven years trying to convince everyone that Baz was dangerous, that he was an evil vampire plotting his demise. But now I doubt that he actually wanted them to hear and begin a vampire hunt against Baz. I don’t think that either of them _really_ wanted the other dead. They were just doing what seemed to make sense. And now that it’s done, Simon is devastated. It’s so tragic.

Simon stirs a little in my arms. I see his eyelids flutter but he doesn’t open them, like he’s trying to savor the lingering calmness of his fading dream.

I sit up. “Simon?” I say quietly.

Slowly – reluctantly – he opens his eyes. He blinks a few times to wake up. Then he spots me. His cheeks are painted red. “Penny?” he says in a high-pitched voice, like I just caught him stealing or something. His eyes dart towards the other bed, probably expecting to see Baz lying there, complaining loudly about my presence.

At first, he looks at the empty bed puzzled. My heart breaks as I see the truth crash into him _again_. He falls back on his pillow with his eyes clenched shut, drawing a shaky breath. I can see he wants to cry again but he is still so exhausted.

“Was it a good dream?” I ask him softly, wanting to distract him.

He opens his eyes and I see they’re full of tears. “What?”

“The dream you were just having,” I clarify. “It must have been good. You were smiling.”

He takes another shaky breath and closes his eyes. He is silent for a few moments and I think he has fallen asleep.

But then he whispers. “Yes.” A tear runs down his cheek. “It was a good dream.”

**BAZ**

When I wake up, it’s so dark I can’t see a thing.

For a moment I think I’m back in the coffin. Panic grips at my heart and I can’t breathe.

But when I stretch my arms in front of me, I don’t touch the splintery wood lid of the coffin. Relief washes over me.

I sit up and blink a few times, trying to see where I am. The darkness is so thick it takes me a few moments to see through it even with my vampire senses. Soon, though, I can make out the place I’m in.

I sigh when I realize that the walls look familiar. I’m in the Catacombs.

I chortle mirthlessly. So, the Mage finds out I’m a vampire and then he locks me up in the Catacombs because he thinks I’ll be scared? Fat chance. The Catacombs are like a second home to me. I know them like the back of my hand. After being kidnapped and locked in a coffin it became a little harder to come hunt here, but I can face it.

I look around more closely and I frown. I know I’m in the Catacombs but I don’t recognize the room I’m in. I see a stone box in the middle of the dark room covered with a heavy stone lid. A grave, probably.

Then I turn my eyes to the door. My breath hitches. I’d recognize that stone door anywhere – even though I’ve only seen it from the outside, where I left flowers every once in a while.

I’m in my mother’s tomb. That sick bastard locked me in my mother’s tomb.

If I was human, I’d be sick for sure. A wave of rage washes over me. I jump up and and run to the door.

“LET ME OUT!” I scream, pounding my fists against the door so hard that I’m surprised that my knuckles don’t break. It should hurt like hell, but the adrenaline that rushes through me doesn’t let the pain register. “LET ME OUT YOU SICK SON OF A BITCH!”

I scream for more than an hour. I punch and kick and push at the door, again and again and _again_. And for a little while it makes me feel better. But soon all that manic energy drains away and I sink to the floor. I start crying. Now I wish that the Mage doesn’t come. I’ll burn before I allow that man to see me break down.

But I’m not breaking down. It’s just a moment of weakness. It will pass. And then I’ll do what I do best – I’ll plot. And when I get out of here, then Crowley help anyone who stands in my way to kill the Mage.

Because I _will_ kill him. And no one, not even the Chosen One, will stop me this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, not so dead after all. (What a surprise.) ;)  
> The dialogue from the star-gazing scene is copied word for word from the book. I just added Simon's POV on it and, of course, the kiss!


	3. Dreams

**PENELOPE**

Neither Simon nor Agatha have come down to breakfast today. Can’t say I’m surprised. I can only imagine what they’re going through. I’m pretty sure they won’t show up to class either.

The dining hall is unusually quiet today. Everyone’s faces are glum and solemn. It’s not like Baz was the most lovable person in school. He was a bully and an arsehole. But no one was going to look happy that an eighteen year old boy died – even if he was a vampire.

Nobody talks much, and the ones who do, do so in hushed voices, like they’re afraid it would be disrespectful if they spoke too loud. I can only catch a few words, being repeated again and again. Baz. Vampire. Dead. Humdrum. Dead spot.

I haven’t told Simon about that last one. He already has too much on his plate. But it’s serious. Very serious.

Yesterday the Humdrum created the biggest dead spot in history – just outside London. Fortunately, not many mages lived there, but still it’s scary. It seems like the Humdrum picked up the pace. It’s like he wants to wreak as much havoc as he can now that Simon is vulnerable.

I sip my tea halfheartedly. Why can’t the boy catch a break? Things had started to look up. The Humdrum was laying fairly low (if you didn’t count the dragon), Simon and Baz were not trying to kill each other every five minutes… And now it’s like the universe is trying to make up for this little peace and quiet it granted Simon the last few weeks. It isn’t fair.

Well. When has life been fair to Simon before, anyway?

**BAZ**

I wake up in the dark again. I dreamt about that night me and Snow held hands and brought the stars to our room with our shared magic. The warm and calm feeling from the dream is snuffed out like a candle when I remember where I am and it’s quickly replaced by fear and despair.

The door slides open. I try to hide the fact that I was crying last night with a sneer. It’s easy – I’ve done it for years.

I blink a few times before my eyes get used to the faint light coming from outside. One of the Mage’s Men appears in the doorway. I recognize him as Bunce’s brother. He doesn’t look at me. He just pushes a tray of food inside and closes the door as quickly as he possibly can. I frown. Is he afraid of me or something? It’s not like I can do anything to him, anyway. I don’t have my wand. Vampires are strong, but magic is stronger.

I push Bunce out of my mind. I’m alone again. In my mother’s tomb. Trapped.

I smother the urge to cry again. Enough of that. I’m a bloody Pitch, for Crowley’s sake, not a pathetic crybaby.

My stomach grumbles. I stand and approach the tray left by the door. I examine the contents and sigh with despair. There’s only two slices of bread, an apple and a glass only half-filled with blood. Just enough to get me through the day but nowhere near enough to keep me full. I had just started to gain a little weight and feel somewhat healthy after the ordeal with the numpties. Now I’m back to being starved again.

_Well,_ I think bitterly. _At least the Mage understands that I need real food as well apart from blood._

I inhale the bread and drain the blood from the glass hungrily. It takes all of my willpower not to devour the apple right now. I’m going to be hungry again later. I need to save it for then.

I’m still so hungry. And scared. I try not to look at my mother’s grave, try not to think that her bones are rotting under the stone lid. I try not to think that, if she was alive, she might have done the same thing the Mage is doing right now.

_No,_ I think. She would have been merciful. She would have killed me – put me out of my misery once and for all.

Fear grips my heart. My breathing gets faster and more shallow. My heart is pounding and my head hurts. I feel like I’m trapped in the coffin again. I can’t go through this _again_. I’m at the end of my rope.

I’m feeling my sanity slipping again. So I do what I always do when I feel like this. I think of Snow.

His bronze curls.

His unremarkable blue eyes.

The feel of his magic flowing to me through the touch of his hand.

And the fact that I’m hopelessly in love with him.

**SIMON**

I didn’t go to any classes today. I just couldn’t bring myself to get out of bed. I didn’t even go to breakfast, _or_ lunch. I’m not hungry, which is worrying enough on its own.

Both Penny and Agatha came to see me today. Agatha was a mess. I could tell she had been crying non-stop since yesterday. She wasn’t crying when she entered my room. I think she stopped just long enough to see me.

She told me that she was sorry again. I told her that I understand, that I forgive her. She smiled weakly and thanked me. Then she asked me if I wanted to come stay at her house during Christmas break like I always did. I told her I’d think about it.

A little after she left, Penny came. She brought me a few sandwiches and practically forced me to eat them. She asked me how I was. I shrugged. Then she told me that she had talked with her parents and they agreed to let me stay in their home for Christmas if I wanted. I suspect that she didn’t really ask them. She just stated that I was coming and that was the end of it. I love her even more for that.

I told her I’d think about it.

And that’s what I’m doing right now. Thinking about whether I should go stay with the Wellbeloves during Christmas break or with the Bunces.

I know that I should go to Agatha’s. She’s feeling so bad about what happened to Baz. She’s blaming herself, and she probably thinks that I am, too. If I agree to stay with her in her house, it will probably convince her that I don’t think it’s her fault and put her mind at ease.

But I don’t want to stay with her on Christmas. It’s not that I’m blaming her for what happened… I mean, I know that what she did was foolish, but she wouldn’t have done it if she knew that it would end this way. But still, I don’t think I’ll be able to look at her this couple of weeks and not think about what happened. About Baz.

Well, to be fair, it's not like I actually think I'll be able to stop thinking about Baz even if I stay with Penny. I've never been able to do so before. And now it should be even harder to keep him out of my mind. Especially after that dream.

I know it was just a silly dream. That I shouldn’t take it seriously. Except, I can’t stop thinking about it. I can’t stop thinking about the way Baz looked under the starlight. About that beautiful smile that brightened his face. About how his lips felt against mine.

I’m starting to lose my mind. That much is obvious.

Baz is – WAS! – my enemy. We hated each other. He tried to kill me so many times. And if he had stayed alive, I would probably try to kill him too at some point. I’m the Mage’s Heir and he was a Pitch. Not to mention evil.

But… was he? He _looked_ evil. At least most of the time. But he didn’t look evil in the Mage’s office when I showed him the photograph of his younger self his mother kept in one of her books. He didn’t look evil when I told him about the Visiting. Or when he read the article about his mother’s death. It was like his walls crumbled for just a little while and revealed his real self for the first time. At that point, he looked like a boy. A boy who lost his mother.

And he didn’t look evil that night I shared my magic with him. My magic somehow managed to lower his defenses and show a different side of him. He had said that he felt drunk. Isn’t that what happens to drunk people? Don’t they forget about their reservations and just do what feels right? What if that was the real Baz? The happy, carefree one that giggled and looked at the stars with wonder?

And ever since we made that truce, he wasn’t _that_ insufferable. It was actually… quite fun working together. We were still constantly bickering and insulting each other, but it wasn’t hurtful. It was just teasing. If he wasn’t a Pitch and a vampire, I could actually imagine him being part of our group, hanging out together and just being friends.

_Still,_ said the voice of reason in my mind that for some reason sounded a lot like Penny. _There’s a long distance between being friends and kissing. And you’re not even gay, Simon!_

I shake my head. It doesn’t matter now, anyway. Baz is dead. I wouldn’t be able to kiss him even if I wanted to.

Fresh tears start running down my face. It’s not that I _want_ to kiss him. (Shut up, I don’t.) I’d just like to have the option to decide _not_ to kiss him.

I wipe the tears with my hand. This is getting ridiculous. I’m acting like I’ve lost a brother or something. Baz is dead. There’s nothing I can do about it. Now, I just have to get over it.

I manage to fall asleep. But I wake up again soon, sweating and breathing heavily. I’m exhausted but I’m reluctant to fall asleep again, in fear that I might have another nightmare.

I stare at the empty bed at the other side of the room. Without really realizing what I’m doing, I stand up and walk towards it. I slip inside the sheets and bury my face in his pillow. It still smells like him. Cedar and bergamot. It’s oddly comforting and, before I know it, I’m asleep again.

Once again, I dream about Baz.

I’m in the Catacombs, looking for him. This time I’m sure I’ll find him. And then I’ll get him thrown out of Watford once and for all.

I walk down the corridors. I strain my ears, hoping to hear him. Nothing.

I continue walking, until I hear soft footsteps behind me.

I freeze.

Suddenly, I feel two hands wrap around me from behind.

“Are you looking for me?” Baz’s voice whispers in my ear. His hot breath tickles my neck and makes me shiver.

“I-” The words die in my throat as I feel Baz’s lips kissing my cheek softly. Then he plants another peck on my jawline. Then on my neck.

I sigh, feeling so content I almost sink to the floor. I turn around to face him. He’s smirking at me, his eyes twinkling playfully, and he leans forwards. I smile and close the rest of the distance between our lips.


	4. Last words

**SIMON**

My eyes snap open.

Shit. I did it again.

I’m fantasizing about a dead vampire.

A _male_ dead vampire.

_Fuck._

I take a deep breath in an effort to clear my mind. All I manage to do is inhale his scent. Rich and intoxicating.

I jump on my feet and lurch to the other side of the room, far away from his bed. I need to get out of here.

I still don’t go to breakfast. I think I won’t go to class today, either. I just run outside, out of the inner gates and on the Great Lawn. I pause for a second. I don’t know where to go exactly. My first thought is to go to the Wavering Wood. But I wave that thought away. I just can’t go there again. Not where he…

I’m thinking about going to the football pitch. No. That would also remind me of him. Then I’m thinking about the Catacombs.

My face feels hot as I remember the dream. Nope. I’m not going to the Catacombs ever again.

Shit. Is there a place that _won’t_ remind me of him?

After some thought, I head for the hills. That’s the only place I can think of that I can’t find a connection to Baz.

I find Ebb there, sitting on the hillside with her goats all around, eating the few strands of grass that haven’t frozen yet.

“Hey,” I say.

She smiles at me melancholically. “Hiya, Simon.”

I sit next to her on the cold ground. The quickly rising sun shines brightly in the clear blue sky. I take a deep breath and I inhale the crisp fresh air of the hills. I feel calm again, like a huge weight was removed from my chest.

“How are you feeling?” asks Ebb.

“Good.”

I see her watching me with concern from the corner of my eye. “I heard about Baz.”

I draw another long breath. “Right.”

“How are you dealing?”

I shrug, trying to keep my demeanor impassive. “How do you expect me to deal? He was my enemy.”

“I’ve heard about you going off in the Wavering Wood.”

I shrug again.

“Simon, it’s okay to be sad.”

“I’m not sad,” I snap, but my voice breaks. I close my eyes and take a shaky breath. “I shouldn’t be sad.”

Ebb puts her hand on my shoulder. “It’s okay, Simon. It’s okay if you don’t hate him.”

“But I should hate him!” I shout. I open my eyes and see the understanding in her eyes. I regret shouting at her. “He is – was – a Pitch. And a vampire.”

“So?”

“ _So_?” I repeat incredulously.

“Yes. He’s a Pitch and a vampire. Why should that make you hate him?”

“Because- Because-” I run my hands through my hair, exasperated. “Because I’m the Chosen One! That’s what the Chosen One is supposed to do! Rid the world of evil vampires!”

“Yes. And _he_ was a Pitch. And a Pitch is supposed to rid the world of the Mage and his heir.”

“Exactly!”

“Exactly.”

I stare at her. My heart constricts. “So…” I say quietly. “So you’re saying that… that he might not have wanted to kill me either?”

She shrugs. “Maybe.”

I bury my head in my hands. I had honestly never thought about it. I tend not to think upsetting stuff. And the thought that Baz might have been as forced into this as I was _is_ upsetting.

And now I’m wondering. Did I even really know him at all?

Ebb understands my distress and takes my hand. “Come. Let’s go have some tea.”

**BAZ**

I wake up screaming in the darkness.

It takes me a little while to realize that I’m not burning anymore. I’m shaking all over.

I start crying. I cry even harder than the first time I woke up in here. I don’t even care if the door opens and someone sees me.

I dreamed that I was there when my mother Visited.

I woke up in my room. There was a freezing current of air that made me shiver and I turned to yell at Snow to close the bloody window. But I only saw my mother, pale and translucent.

She smiled at me lovingly. _“Baz,”_ she whispered.

“Mum?” I choked out. There was a lump in my throat that made it hard to speak.

_“My little boy… You’ve grown so much.”_

“Mum,” I said again in a strangled whisper. Tears started to run down my cheeks.

My mother reached out with her hand. It was cold – really cold – as it gently wiped the tears and caressed my cheek.

 _“I was afraid I wouldn’t find you…”_ she whispered. _“Then I would have to wait another twenty years to speak to you.”_

“I’m here, mum.”

She wrapped her arms around me and I melted in her cold embrace.

_“You’re so cold, Baz.”_

I chuckled. “You’re one to talk.”

_“I’m dead, Basilton.”_

My throat went dry. “So am I.”

She let me go and looked me in the eye.

_“No, you’re not! Why would you say that, Basil?”_

“Because- Because I’m a vampire.”

She took a step back. The loving expression on her face became stunned, which in turn was replaced by horror and disgust.

 _“No,”_ she said harshly. _“No son of mine can be a vampire.”_

“Mum,” I said in a broken voice. “Mum, please.”

But she wasn’t my mum anymore. She was a tall column of red hot flames. She embraced me in her deadly fiery arms and I screamed in pain until I woke up.

I’m still crying when the door opens.

I don’t have time to wipe the tears and I can’t manage a sneer. Instead I swallow the sobs and look at Bunce with a cold, taunting expression – daring him to laugh at me.

But he doesn’t. He avoids my eyes as he pushes the tray of food inside and then he closes the stone door as fast as he possibly can.

I continue crying.

I can’t do this anymore. I’ve had enough of this in the coffin. Being scared and alone with only my nightmares to keep me company.

I think of Snow again to keep my sanity. I picture his beautiful calm face, illuminated by a silver streak of moonlight as he sleeps in the bed next to mine. I think of his soft and parted lips (mouth breather) and I imagine kissing them. Warmth spreads inside me, chasing away the demons in my head.

I’m going to get out of here. If only to get a taste of those lips for real. Fuck the consequences.

I’m thinking about Bunce’s face as he was giving me my food. He wouldn’t meet my gaze. I had thought it was fear or disgust because I’m a vampire.

But now I realize it was guilt.

I smile in the darkness.

_Well, if you guys insist on playing with my head, it’s only fair that I return the favor._

**SIMON**

Ebb places a plate full of chocolate biscuits on the small table inside her barn and then she goes to make tea. I start devouring them. I’m a little relieved that my appetite is back.

As I’m munching on a biscuit, I think about Baz. (I always seem to be thinking about Baz lately.)

I’m racking my brain, trying to remember what his last words to me were.

I don’t know why it’s suddenly so important to me. I think I’m hoping it was something really silly. Something that I can hold against him in twenty years if he Visits me. (Not that he _would_ Visit me.) (But then again, maybe he would. Just to make one final snarky comment that he didn’t get to throw at me while he was alive. The tosser.)

I think the last time I saw him was in Magickal History. He was sitting a few rows in front of me. I remember looking at his long black hair. It was the last lesson of the day so it was loose instead of slicked back. (I liked it better that way.) I remember wondering how he managed to look so posh and sharp, even in the school uniform.

He probably felt my gaze, because he turned his head back. I made a face at him. He sneered at me. But we didn’t talk. We never talked outside our room.

 _“It will confuse my minions if they see me consorting with the enemy,”_ he had said.

I laugh silently, with something dangerously close to affection. _Wanker._

I think harder.

I’m pretty sure the last time I talked to him was that morning, when we were getting dressed.

I remember him straightening his tie in front of the mirror.

“Tell Bunce to meet us here at six,” he told me. I remember noting the slightly defeated tone of his voice. I understood that he had started to lose hope.

“Okay,” I said. After a moment’s hesitation I spoke again. “Baz?”

He turned to look at me. “What?”

“We will find out the truth. I promise.”

He arched an eyebrow. “You know, Chosen Ones don’t break their promises.”

“I know. I won’t.”

I frown.

_“Chosen Ones don’t break their promises?”_

I groan and biscuit crumbs fall from my mouth. I had really hoped his last words wouldn’t be something deep and profound. I mean, who dies unexpectedly and makes sure his last words to his enemy are worthy to be carved on his grave?

Apparently, Baz does. He did everything perfectly. Why wouldn’t he die perfectly, too?

I pause before I pop another biscuit in my mouth. Wait a minute. We _did_ exchange a few more words before he left the room.

He already had his hand on the doorknob when I called him. “Baz?”

“What now, Snow?”

“Will you bring food?”

He sighed dramatically. “Well, I’m not likely to concentrate on my mother’s murder with your stomach rumbling all the time, am I?”

I stopped him again after he opened the door. “Will there be scones?”

He turned to face me. He rolled his eyes and shook his head, but the corners of his lips were curling upwards, like he was trying (and failing) to suppress a grin.

“Yes, Snow. There will be scones.”

And he left.

I put the biscuit back on the plate.

_“There will be scones.”_

Those were his last words to me. No wonder I’ve thought so fondly about him in my dreams.

My eyes fill with tears and this time I let them fall.

I feel a warm hand on my shoulder. I start a little until I see it’s Ebb. She’s smiling at me, her eyes also a little tearful. “I brought tea,” she says sitting down.

I didn’t even notice the mugs she placed on the table. I take mine and take a sip. It burns my tongue, which makes my eyes water even more. I put the mug down and try to stop the sobs that are trying to escape my throat. I’m so sick of crying.

“You know, I made a promise to him,” I say, just to stop myself from crying.

“What kind of promise?”

I scoff. “A stupid one. One I knew I couldn’t keep. And I made it like an idiot.”

“It’s okay, Simon. At least you tried.”

I shake my head. “You don’t understand, Ebb. I _had_ to help him. So that she could have peace.” A sudden idea makes my blood chill in my veins. “ _Shit_. What if now _he_ is the one who can’t find peace? Because we didn’t find his mother’s killer? Because I didn’t keep my promise to him?”

Ebb frowns. “Wait. Find his mother’s killer?”

I bury my face in my hands. _Fuck_.

“Yes,” I say. “I promised him I’d help him find who killed her.”

“But everybody knows the vampires killed her.”

“Yeah, but… Well, we’re thinking someone helped them get in Watford. I mean, no one’s been able to do it before. And _she_ seemed pretty certain that someone was behind her death.”

“ _She?_ ”

“Yeah. She- She kind of Visited…”

“She Visited Baz?”

“No, not exactly. Baz was missing at the time, remember? So she talked to me.”

“You?”

“Yes… And she told me that her killer walks and that I have to find someone named Nicodemus, whoever _that_ is-”

A sound of something breaking makes me stop. I look at Ebb. Her eyes are wide. Her mug is on the floor, broken to pieces, the liquid spilled and staining the wood.

“Ebb?”

“Nicodemus?” she whispers, like she’s afraid to say that name out loud. “Are you sure that’s what she said?”

“Yes. Ebb, do you-” I swallow. “Do you know who he is?” She nods. Tears start falling down her cheeks and she sniffles. “Who is he?”

“My brother.”

My eyebrows shoot up. “Your- But how- I thought he was dead!”

“He is… Sort of.”

“What do you mean ‘sort of’? You’re either dead or you’re not! There’s no in between!”

She wipes the tears from her face, but new ones keep following. “Simon, he- he crossed over.”

“Over? Over where?”

“To the vampires.”

“The-” My eyes widen. “He became a vampire?”

Ebb nods, sniffling.

“Willingly?”

She sighs. “He thought he’d become invincible. A vampire _and_ a powerful mage. But they snapped his wand and took out his fangs. And he was stricken from the Book, too.”

So that’s why we couldn’t find anything about him.

“But what would your brother have to do with-” I stop. “Ebb, you don’t think-”

Her eyes widen. “No. Look- Nicky made mistakes. But he wouldn’t do something like that.”

“But why-”

“My brother knows people. That’s what he does. Maybe he heard something about Mistress Pitch’s death.”

I sit at the edge of my chair. “I have to talk to him.”

“Simon-”

“Ebb, _please_.” My eyes are pleading. “I promised him, Ebb! I have to-” My voice breaks. “I have to do this. So he can find peace. So that they _both_ find peace.”

She sighs and wipes her nose on her sleeve. “Where are you staying for the holidays?”

“Penny’s,” I make the decision on the spot. If I’m going to do this, I’ll need her help.

“I’ll come pick you up from Penny’s on Christmas Eve.” She looks at me with her puffy red eyes. “And then you’ll talk to Nicky. To bring them peace.”


	5. The truth

**PREMAL**

I hate this. I hated it since the beginning.

It’s not the first time I’m asked to do something I don’t like. I knew when I joined the Mage that I would have to do hard things for the greater good. Like when I had to raid my own house and create a rift between me and my family. I didn’t like it. But I did it because I trusted the Mage’s judgement. I was certain he had a really good reason for what he was asking me to do.

But this… This is different.

I would understand killing the boy. He is a vampire _and_ a Pitch.

I would understand having him imprisoned. The Mage says he could prove really useful in the war against the Old Families.

But I _don’t_ understand imprisoning him in his mother’s tomb and starving him.

I mean, we don’t even _need_ to starve him. Even if he was in top health, he wouldn’t be able to escape – he doesn’t have his wand. No. The only reason to do something like this would be getting some sort of satisfaction from Pitch's ordeal. 

And I would be able to understand even _that_ if it was his father or his aunt Fiona. But Basilton Pitch is just a boy. He’s my sister’s age, for Merlin’s sake.

I see him every day when I bring him food. He tries to look strong. Every time I open the door, his face quickly forms into a sneer. But he doesn’t fool me. His bloodshot eyes and the dark crescents under his eyes reveal his vulnerability. And he’s getting really thin – it’s painful just to look at him.

Which is why I try to do that as little as possible. I just open the door, push the food inside and close it again, before I have the chance to feel pity for him.

The first couple of days, it worked. Then Pitch started talking to me.

He never got a chance to say much. Like I said, I keep the door open just long enough to give him his food and then I seal it as quickly as possible. He only has time to say one sentence or two, but he makes it count. He must spend all of his time calculating exactly what he’s going to say, because every time, without fail, he gives me a sleepless night.

The first time he talked, he said: “I wonder what your sister thinks of this.”

It was hard not to cringe. Penny wasn’t happy with what happened in the Wood. (She still thinks he’s dead.) She almost cursed me. It was only thanks to Simon that she didn’t, who held her back. (Which made me feel even worse. He took Pitch’s death really hard. _He_ had every right to curse me.)

Another time he expressed his wonder at the Great Reformer, who opened the gates of Watford even to the least powerful mages, but not to powerful vampires who only feed on rats and squirrels. (I checked into that afterwards. He was telling the truth. There weren’t any mysterious deaths near Pitch Manor or Watford – unless you count the dead rats I found in the Catacombs.)

But last time he said something really odd and unsettling.

“Your Mage is a piece of work,” he said. “First locking me up in a coffin for six weeks, then keeping me prisoner in my mother’s tomb… He’s got a twisted imagination, I’ll give him that.”

Six weeks in a coffin? When did that happen?

I remember hearing that Pitch was missing the first few weeks of school. Was that where he was? Trapped in a coffin? And he thinks the Mage was responsible?

Or maybe he’s playing with my head. It’s entirely possible.

But I have to know for sure.

**SIMON**

The days until Christmas Eve drag on slowly and I’m starting to think that there’s some kind of spell on Penny’s house that slows down time. Wouldn’t be too surprising.

We spend most of our time in their library, reading books about vampires and studying the whiteboard where we’ve written everything we know about Natasha Grimm-Pitch’s death. It’s mostly the same things that were written on the whiteboard in our room back at Watford – except for the detail about Nicodemus. Now we know that he’s a vampire and Ebb’s twin brother. But it’s still not much to go on, so we’re still stuck. We can only wait until Christmas Eve, when I’ll finally meet Nicodemus.

Those past few days have been really hard. It’s like there’s this gaping hole in my stomach and nothing can fill it. Baz is gone. I still can’t wrap my head around it.

And the dreams don’t make it any easier. Every time I think about them I want to die of embarrassment or cry or smash my head against a wall. They occur almost every night. Sometimes it’s me kissing Baz, like the first one. Other times it’s also kissing, but not necessarily his lips. (I can’t _believe_ I’m fantasizing about a dead vampire.) But other times I just dream of Baz doing the same things he did before he died. The teasing, the taunting, the sneering – even the anger, the threats, the hatred – all of it. But I see them under a new light. I notice things I didn't before. Like the hurt in the lines of his face when I said something nasty to him or when I accused him of stuff. The glint in his eyes when we teased each other harmlessly.The way he looked like he'd just been slapped every time I called him a vampire. Of course, all of those things were mixed with the anger and hatred I always saw on his face, but they were still there.

It's like, for the first time, I'm willing to acknowledge the fact that he had feelings too and it gives me a whole new perspective. One where Baz isn’t an evil monster. Where he isn’t my enemy. Where I don’t _want_ him to be my enemy.

It’s not doing me any good. Thinking about all these things. Thinking about what could have been. But for the first time I can’t make myself _not_ think about something. And I think it’s because these thoughts have been in my head for a long time, and they’ve been repressed in some dark corner of it. And maybe if I had found a way to let them see the light of day, none of this would have happened. If I had just _thought_ of the possibility that Baz might not be an evil vampire, then maybe I wouldn’t have convinced Agatha that he was, and then maybe Baz would still be alive.

I wish I could bring him back and just have the chance to explore the possibility that I might have misjudged him. But I can’t. All I can do right now is solve his mother’s murder and bring them both peace. And that’s what I’m going to do.

**PREMAL**

On the morning of Christmas Eve, I open the stone door to Natasha Grimm-Pitch’s tomb holding a tray like I always do. Except today I don’t just slide it inside and close the door. This time I go inside.

I see the look of surprise on Pitch’s face in the light of the torch I’m carrying, which is soon replaced by a smirk. “Bunce. So nice of you to join me.”

I sit down beside him and give him the tray. Today, I’ve added a few sandwiches to the usual amount of food and the glass of blood is filled to the top. He quirks an eyebrow at me. Then he takes a sandwich and starts eating.

“I have a few questions for you,” I say.

He doesn’t answer immediately. He takes his time chewing his mouthful before he swallows. “And why should I answer them?” His fangs have popped out and, together with his pale skin, his hollow cheeks and his sunken eyes, they give him a haunted look that almost makes me shudder.

“Because I might be able to help you.”

He nods. “Alright. Shoot.”

“What did you mean before? About being locked in a coffin?”

Pitch smirks. “Oh, I see that your precious Mage doesn’t share _everything_ with his minions.”

I glare at him. “Just answer the question, Pitch.”

“You might have heard I was missing the first few weeks of school.”

I nod. “Is that where you were? Locked in a coffin?”

“Like I said. Your Mage has a twisted imagination.”

“So, you were kidnapped.”

“Yes.” His lips curl downwards as he adds: “By numpties.”

I stare at him for a few moments. Then I burst out laughing.

He scowls at me.

“Numpties?” I chuckle. “The great heir of the Pitches was kidnapped… by _numpties_?”

“I’m glad my hardships amuse you,” he sneers.

It pains me to admit it, but he’s right. This isn’t funny. This isn’t funny _at all_. In fact, this is the exact opposite of funny.

“And they locked you in a coffin?”

He shrugs. “They probably thought they were doing me a favor. With me being a vampire and all. And they only gave me a little blood every day. No food for six weeks.”

I shake my head. “And you think the Mage put them up to it?”

He cocks an eyebrow. “Who else could it be?”

I arch an eyebrow as well. “ _That_ ’s your proof?”

He shrugs. “Well, who else _could_ it be?”

“Your family has many enemies.”

“But only one of them could come up with something like that.” He smirks. “I mean, it _does_ fit his M.O.” And he gestures vaguely around the room.

I wish I could argue.

He finishes his sandwich and drains the blood. “My turn,” he says.

“Your turn to what?”

“To ask questions.”

“That wasn’t part of our agreement.”

He smiles crookedly. “I think you owe me as much.”

The brat is taking advantage of my guilt. I sigh. “Alright. Ask away.”

“How is my family?”

I blink. Weirdly, I didn’t expect this. I mean, it’s easy to forget that he’s a young boy sometimes. But he is. Of course he would ask about his family first. “They’re devastated, what do you think?”

He frowns. “Are they looking for me?”

I look away. I had forgotten that he doesn’t know. “No. They think you’re dead.”

I see his eyes widen from the corner of my eye. “ _What_?”

“The Mage told everyone you were killed while we were trying to capture you in the Wood. He said that you tried to attack us and we had to put you down.”

His eyes light up with rage. “That’s why he let me run to the forest in the first place, isn’t it? So that there wouldn’t be any witnesses! And then he could easily stage my death so that no one would look for me!”

I nod.

He rakes his hair with his hands. “And the Families haven’t retaliated?”

I shake my head. “Your family tried to rile them up, but the fact that they kept secret that you were a vampire didn’t really work in their favor.”

He nods. “Of course. Why would they care that a vampire was killed?” There’s a hint of bitterness in his voice. He sighs. “Alright. Next question. How did the Mage know I’m a vampire?”

“Agatha told him.”

His eyebrows shoot up. “She did _what_?”

“She told him she saw you feed in the Wavering Wood.”

Pitch shakes his head. “Wow. She doesn’t take rejection very well, it seems,” he says wryly.

“I think she was worried for Simon and my sister.”

“Why would she be worried?”

“She thought you were up to something and that’s why you were working with them.”

He frowns. “How did _she_ know I was working with them?”

I shrug. “I think she overheard them talk about it.” Then I look at him with narrowed eyes. “Why _were_ you working with them, anyway? Were you really up to something? Because if you were planning to hurt my sister-”

“Why would I hurt your sister?” he snaps at me. “She was helping me.”

I frown. “Why was she helping you?”

He raises his eyebrow. “Didn’t Wellbelove tell the Mage what we were working on?”

“I think so. But-”

“But he didn’t tell you,” he finishes. “Anyway, it’s not like it matters anymore. She and Snow were helping me find out who got my mother killed.”

I stare at him, stunned. I didn’t expect _that._ “The vampires killed her,” I say dumbly.

Pitch glowers at me. “I’m aware. I was there, remember? But someone put them up to it. Someone got them inside Watford.”

“How do you know?”

“Because she told me.” He winces. “Or she told Snow. I was trapped in a coffin at the time – thanks to your-”

He freezes.

I frown. “Pitch?”

The little color that painted his cheeks when he drank the blood drains from his face. His mouth falls open and his eyes widen in shock.

“What?” I say, a little concerned.

“Of course,” he whispers. “How could I have been so stupid?”

“What?” This time it comes out irritated.

I frown when he suddenly starts laughing. It’s not a happy laugh. It’s dry and harsh. “Oh, your Mage is one devious man,” he says. There’s hatred in his eyes. “I have to admit, I underestimated him. I didn’t really consider him capable of something like this, but he continues to astound me.”

“Will you explain to me what the hell you’re talking about?” I say angrily.

He smiles wryly. “Tell me, Bunce, how big of a coincidence do you think it is that I get kidnapped by numpties right before the Veil thins? The only time my mother can talk to me and reveal her killer?”

I scowl at him. “What are you talking about, Pitch?”

“And then,” he continues, ignoring my words. “I get imprisoned _again_ , right after Wellbelove reveals that I’m trying to find my mother’s killer. That’s a lot of coincidences, don’t you think?” He cocks an eyebrow. “It’s almost like… _someone_ doesn’t want me to find out who got her killed.”

I stare at him as realization hits me like a tsunami. “No,” I say in horror. “This is some sort of plot of yours. To make me doubt my mentor.”

He shrugs, but his eyes are still blazing with hatred. “You can worship your _mentor_ as much as you want. I don’t give a shit. But you know I’m right.”

I shake my head. “No. You’re making this up.”

“ _Really_?” He chuckles mirthlessly. “And I thought you Bunces were supposed to be clever. I suppose your sister got your share, too.”

I can’t even get mad at him. My head is spinning. Could it be possible…

“Why?” I say. I can hear I’m pleading. “ _Why_ would the Mage want your mother dead?”

He arches an eyebrow at me, like the answer is obvious. “Would he be the Mage if my mother was still alive?”

I bury my face in my hands. It can’t be. He must be lying. The Mage wouldn’t-

But then again, he _did_ imprison an eighteen year old boy in his mother’s tomb and starved him. If he’s capable of this, why wouldn’t he be capable of getting Natasha Grimm-Pitch killed?

I take a deep breath and raise my head again. I can’t collapse in front of Pitch.

“I’ll think about what you said,” I say as I’m standing up, picking up my torch and trying to make my voice sound cold and controlled.

“Wait!” Pitch yells as I make my way to the door. I turn and look at him. His face in unreadable. “One last question. How’s Snow?”

I blink. “Why do you care?”

He shrugs.

“He’s alive and healthy, if that’s what you’re asking,” I say coolly. But then I add in a softer tone: “He didn’t take your death very well.”

He frowns. “What do you mean? He didn’t throw a party to celebrate the demise of his nemesis?”

I huff. “If by party you mean him going off and taking out a fifth of the Wavering Wood, then yes.”

He stares at me with a dumbfounded look on his face that I’m not sure what to make of. But I have other things to worry about. So I leave the tomb and close the stone door behind me. 

**SIMON**

When the doorbell rings on Christmas Eve, I practically tumble down the stairs to the door. When I open it, I see Ebb, nervous-looking and red-eyed.

“Hi,” I say.

“Hiya, Simon,” she smiles at me, but it’s a little forced. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah,” I say and follow her outside to her old truck. “Where are we going?”

“To my family’s house. Nicky will be there.”

* * *

 

Dinner in the Pettys’ household is crazy. Apart from Nicodemus, Ebb has two other brothers and a sister. Add to that their kids and her mother and the table is packed. The grown-ups are arguing loudly and the kids are yelling and throwing food at each other, only taking a break to goggle at me and ask me about the monsters I’ve slain.

I love it.

After dinner, Ebb leads me outside to their back garden. We sit on a bench under a willow. It’s a cold night. A chilly wind blows and I shiver slightly.

I look at Ebb. She seems nervous but she nods at me.

I cough. “Nicodemus?” I say.

No answer comes.

“Nicodemus? Could you come out? I just want to talk to you a little. I need some information.”

Still no answer.

Ebb takes a deep breath. “Nicky, you can come out. Simon is my friend. You can trust him.”

Something stirs in the shadows. A man appears by the gate, his blond hair glowing silver in the faint moonlight.

“Ebeneza?” he says. “What’s the meaning of this?”

“We need your help, Nicky,” she says quietly.

“Who’s ‘we’?”

“Nicky, this is Simon Snow. He’s-”

“The Chosen One. Yeah, I know who Simon Snow is.”

“I just want to talk,” I say.

“About what?”

“About the death of Natasha Grimm-Pitch.”

Nicodemus looks at me. Then he starts laughing. “The Chosen One – the Mage’s Heir – wants to know about the death of Natasha Grimm-Pitch!” He laughs some more, like this is the funniest thing he’s ever heard.

“Nicky,” says Ebb softly. “He’s serious. He needs your help.”

He stops laughing. Now he’s just staring at me. “Why do you care about her death all of a sudden?”

“Because I made a promise,” I say. “And I intend to keep it.”

“Well, I'm not telling you anything.”

“Nicodemus, _please_ , you’re our only lead!”

“You don’t understand, kid! If anyone finds out I’ve talked, I’m dead. Hell, you might kill me yourself!”

“I’d never do such a thing!”

“Nicky, please,” says Ebb pleadingly. “Do it for me.”

I can see he wants to protest. But Ebb’s tearful eyes soften him. “Fine. If you want to get involved in this, boy, go ahead. It’s your funeral.”

I don’t like the sound of this, but I’m too close to back down. “Tell me.”

“Alright,” he says and takes a seat next to Ebb. “A little before the vampire attack at Watford, I was approached by a man. He wanted me to help him get vampires into the school.”

“What? And you helped him?”

“Of course not! Ebeneza lived in Watford. Do you think I’d put her in danger? I even tried to warn Mistress Pitch, but she wouldn’t listen to scum like me.”

“Nicky, who was the man?” says Ebb. “What’s his name?”

He looks at me, cocking an eyebrow. “David.”

“David?” I say, puzzled. I thought it would be someone I know – or heard of. It’s kind of anti-climactic. “Who’s David?”

He smiles wickedly, revealing the gaps where his fangs were supposed to be. “Now he goes by another name.” He leans closer with the same wicked grin. “ _The Mage._ ”

I just stare at him.

“You know, I almost believed you would help me, even if it was for Ebb’s sake,” I say, barely containing my anger. “I should have known better than to trust someone who crossed over voluntarily.”

Nicodemus just shrugs. “Don’t believe me. It’s your problem. But I’m telling you the truth.”

“The truth is that the Mage let vampires into Watford and got Natasha Grimm-Pitch killed?” I shake my head. “You must think I’m an idiot.”

“Obviously, that’s exactly what you are.”

“Simon,” says Ebb hesitantly. “Maybe…”

“Maybe what?”

“Maybe he _is_ telling the truth.”

I look at her. “You believe him?” I say incredulously.

“He has no reason to lie.”

“ _The Mage_ , Ebb? _Seriously_?”

“It makes sense, though, doesn’t it?”

“How on earth does _that_ make sense?”

“Use your brain, Chosen One,” says Nicodemus. “Natasha Grimm-Pitch dies. Who benefits from that? The one who takes her place!”

“You’re saying the Mage got her killed to become headmaster at Watford?”

“You didn’t know him back then, kid. He was a _radical._  He was all about changing the world of mages, no matter what the cost. But no one would listen to him and his ‘revolutionary’ ideas. So he decided to make them listen. He let vampires into Watford and got the headmistress killed. And then, just like that, the world of mages realized they weren't as safe as they thought. And they ran to the man who had been trying to warn them for years.”

“This- this is crazy. Come on, Ebb, you can’t seriously believe that!”

“Hmm…” she says thoughtfully.

“What?”

“Didn’t you say that Mistress Pitch talked to you because Baz was missing and she couldn’t find him?”

“Yeah, so?”

“That seems like a big coincidence, doesn’t it?”

“What?”

“Think about it. The Veil thins. People are getting Visitings. Secrets are revealed. What if someone didn’t want a secret to be out in the open?”

My eyes widen. “You mean… that someone kidnapped Baz, so that his mother wouldn’t be able to tell him who killed her?”

“That sounds like something ol’ Davy would do,” says Nicodemus.

“You shut up,” I snap at him. I look at Ebb expectantly.

“I think we should find out where Baz was when he was missing,” she says.

I nod. That makes sense.

My spirits rise again. We have a new lead now. And then I’m going to prove that the Mage is innoscent. The only problem is-

“How are we going to find out where Baz was? Only his family knows and they’re not going to tell _me_ anything. I’m the Mage’s Heir, remember?”

Ebb bites her lip. “I think I know how.”

**EBB**

I take a deep breath before I knock. I have to remind myself that I’m doing this for Simon. He deserves some closure.

I knock. I hear shuffling inside. “Who’s there?” comes a snappy voice from the other side of the door.

“It’s me, Fi,” I say. “Ebb.”

The door opens. A gobsmacked Fiona is standing at the doorway, holding a glass of whiskey. She’s staring at me. I don’t blame her.

“Hi, Fi,” I say. “It’s been years.”


	6. Free

**EBB**

“So, what brings you here, Ebb?” says Fiona as she pours me a glass of whiskey as well. I take a sip and the liquid burns my throat. “I thought you wanted to move on and leave the past behind you and all that crap.”

“I still do,” I say. “But I heard about your nephew. I just wanted to see how you’re holding up.”

“I’m holding up just fine,” she says harshly, which is how I know that she’s not holding up at all.

“It was terrible, what happened to Baz. I’m sorry Fi,” I say and I mean it.

“What’s it to you?” she snaps. “You didn’t even know him, did you?”

“Not much,” I admit. “But Simon told me so many stories about him, I feel like I know him.”

“Simon? Simon Snow? The Chosen One?” She huffs. “I bet he’s been telling stories about Baz. I bet _he_ told the Mage that he was a vampire.”

I shake my head. “It’s true that they didn’t get along really well, but Simon didn’t get Baz killed. He was actually pretty devastated when he found out about his death.”

She scoffs. “Yeah, right.”

“It’s true. But I’m not here to talk about Simon. I’m here for you.”

“I said I’m fine,” she says and empties her glass in one go. “Already planning my revenge on the Mage.”

I sigh. Good old Fi.

“Fi, don’t do anything rush. The Mage is very powerful. You’ll get yourself killed.”

“And what am I supposed to do, Ebb?” she shouts now, rising from the couch. “The bastard killed my sister’s son! I did my patience! All those months after he kidnapped Baz, I wanted to go after him! But _no_ , I shouldn’t. I should let the Families come up with a plan. And to this day they’ve got _nothing_. And now Baz is _dead_!”

“Wait, Fi, slow down. You said the Mage kidnapped Baz. Do you have proof for that? Did Baz see him?”

“No, he didn’t see him! Because he didn’t even have the decency to take him himself! He used numpties instead – _numpties_ , do you believe him?”

I open my mouth to answer but Fiona is on a roll. “He had Baz locked in a coffin for six weeks! Six weeks in a coffin at a fucking numpties den under Blackfriars Bridge! And now… Now he finally killed him. So, I’m going to end _him_!”

**SIMON**

We wait for Ebb in silence. I’m furious at Penny.

After Ebb drove me back to Penny’s and then left to go to Fiona’s, I told her everything Nicodemus told us. And she actually thinks that he might have been telling the truth. ( _“But, Simon, it does make sense! Otherwise, why would he care_ now _that Baz was a vampire after all these years you told him just that? Because Agatha told him we were trying to find who got Natasha Grimm-Pitch killed! He just didn’t want us to find out the truth!”_ she had said.)

I can’t believe her. I can’t believe she could actually think such things for the Mage.

The doorbell rings and we’re both on our feet. We stomp down the stairs and open the door.

“So?” I ask impatiently. “Did she tell you?”

Ebb nods. “Yeah. She told me.”

* * *

 

We slide down the mud.

“ _Ugh_!” says Penny behind me. I can’t blame her. The smell is hideous. I feel sick as well, though for a different reason. I can’t believe Baz passed six weeks in here. In a _coffin_. It’s no wonder he was in such a bad shape when he came back to Watford. But it _is_ a wonder that he managed not to lose his mind.

I remember the way I kept pestering him about where he had been when he came back, accusing him that he was plotting something. I feel really bad about it now.

It’s really dark in here. We can’t see a thing.

 ** _“A light in the dark,”_** says Ebb and a small ball of light appears and floats in front of her. We look around and see… nothing. Just rocks.

“Hello?” I call. “Anyone here?”

One of the rocks shakes. It unfolds like a Transformer into something alive. Penny starts.

 _“You,”_ rumbles the rock, looking at me. _“You’re warm.”_

Oh, right. Penny had mentioned that the numpties like heat.

Now other piles of rock start shaking and turning into… well, _rocks_ , but ones who can walk and talk and do stuff your typical rocks can’t do. _“Warm,”_ they chant and take a step towards me.

“Back off!” yells Penny and points at them with her ring. They hesitate a little. But then they start coming at me again.

 ** _“Back off!”_** I shout with magic. At once they all fly backwards and get pinned against the walls around us.

_“Let us go!”_

“Not until you tell us what we want to know.” They keep shouting and whining and they start getting on my nerves. **_“Shut up!”_** They all go quiet. “Now tell me who made you kidnap Baz.”

No answer.

“Um, Simon,” says Penny. “I think they’re still bound by your spell. They can’t talk.”

I groan. Great.

 ** _“Speak up,”_** says Ebb, pointing her wand at one of the numpties. “Answer Simon’s question or we’ll leave you like this.”

The numpty glares at her but he answers. _“Who is that Baz you talk about?”_

“The vampire. The one you locked in a coffin.”

The numpty looks angered at that, but it’s hard to tell with a rock. _“He and that woman killed our friends!”_

“Well, you kidnapped him!” I shout angrily.

_“Didn’t kill him, though.”_

Can you strangle rocks? I don’t know. But I suppose he won’t be of much help if I turn him to gravel. “Who. Sent you. After him.”

The numpty flinches. I think my tone made it quite clear _exactly_ what I was thinking. _“It was one of you,”_ the numpty grumbles.

“One of us?” questions Penny. “You mean a mage?”

_“Yes.”_

“Well, who was it?” I push.

_“Your headstone.”_

“Our what?”

_“The green one.”_

“Green?”

“ _Simon_ ,” says Penny. I turn to her. I don’t like her tone.

“What?”

“The headstone is the leader of the numpties.”

“What? But he said it was a magician!”

“He didn’t mean _their_ leader. He said _our_ headstone.”

My insides freeze.

_The green one._

“No.” I shake my head. “No.”

“Simon,” says Ebb softly.

“ _No._ ”

“Simon, you’re smoking,” says Penny, a hint of panic in her eyes.

I look down at myself. I’m really smoking. The lines of my body shimmer and blur as magic oozes out of me.

“Simon!”

“It can’t be!” I shout. “I- I trusted him!”

“Simon, I know,” says Penny, pleadingly. “I trusted him too. But you need to cool down! If you go off in here we’ll get crushed by the debris!”

She’s right. I take deep breaths, trying to control my anger. I try to think of something calming. Something nice – to fight back the nasty feeling that makes me want to destroy everything near me.

I think of that first dream. Of holding Baz’s hands and pushing my magic to him. I think of his smile. I think of his lips and the feeling of them touching mine.

My anger melts into sadness. Penny’s arms wrap around me as the tears start to fall. I almost collapse in her embrace. I’m shaking and crying.

Baz is gone. And now I’ve lost the Mage too – the closest thing I had to a father. And it’s like my world’s shattered.

**BAZ**

This time, Bunce doesn’t stay. Like before, he slides the tray inside and seals the door immediately. But the tray is fuller than usual. Even fuller than yesterday. And there’s something else on it apart from food.

My wand. He’s helping me escape.

I leap on my feet. I take the tray and devour all the food and the blood (three glasses this time). I don’t save anything for later. There won’t be a later.

I take my wand. I consider casting **Open sesame** to open the door, but I think better of it. There must be someone guarding the door. I doubt they’ll be as sympathetic towards me as Bunce has been. And, even after eating a satisfying meal for the first time in many days (I’ve lost count in here), I’m still in no position to duel. So instead, I point my wand to the wall opposite the door.

**_“A hole in the wall!”_ **

A part of the wall crumbles, leaving a hole behind big enough for me to pass through. This spell is more draining than **Open sesame** , but at least there’s no one in the corridor outside. I am a little unsteady on my feet, but I manage to pass through the hole and run towards the exit.

I know these tunnels like the back of my hand and I take each turn confidently, without even thinking. Unfortunately, my spell had been more noisy than I would have liked. I see one of the Mage’s Men at the other end of the tunnel I’m crossing.

 ** _“Sleep tight!”_** I yell.

He starts snoring before he even hits the floor. I falter as I run and my breathing is labored. I won’t make it long enough. But I keep running.

At the exit, I come across another one of the Mage’s Men. I send him to sleep as well, but that drains the little energy I had left. My vision is stained by black spots, but I manage to keep going. I stumble out of the chapel and cross the courtyard to the drawbridge. I don’t meet anyone in the way. (It must be Christmas break.)

Once I reach the Lawn, I fall on the ground. I try to prop myself up on my hands, but I have no more strength. The darkness starts to swallow me when I hear a woman’s voice calling my name and then I’m out.

**EBB**

I was planning on going back to Penny’s house to check on Simon. (He was so broken yesterday night after the encounter with the numpties.) That’s when I saw him.

He was stumbling on the Lawn, barely managing to stay on his feet. I froze, gobsmacked. I was certain that I was seeing things. But then I saw him fall on the ground, unable to stand back up again.

“Baz!” I shout and run to him. I roll him around. This is definitely Baz. And he’s alive.

But only barely. He is unconscious and _so_ thin he’s just skin and bones.

Where has he been? Who is he running from?

The answer is obvious. He's running from the same person who lied about his death. From the same person who got his mother killed and then had him kidnapped and locked in a coffin.

**_“Up, up and away!”_ **

He starts to float in front of me. I magick him to the parking lot and get him inside my truck. It would be better if I could take him to the barn, but the Mage might look for him there. I need to get him out of here.

 ** _“Nothing to see here!”_** I cast, so that the guards by the gate won’t see him on the passenger’s seat.

I smile as my eyes fill with tears. It was about time life gave Simon a break. Crowley knows how much he needs it.

**BAZ**

I wake up on a soft bed in a house I don’t recognize. I sit up quickly. Black spots fill my vision and I almost pass out again. A gentle hand pushes me back on the pillows.

“Slow down,” says a woman’s voice. “You need to rest.”

I turn to my left and see Ebb the goatherd seated on a chair next to my bed. I grab her wrist. (It was supposed to be an intimidating gesture, but I’m so weak it might look like I need to hold her hand for emotional support.) “Where am I?”

“You’re safe, Baz. Don’t wo-”

“Where. Am. I.”

She sighs. “You’re at my family’s house.”

“And why am I at your family’s house?”

She raises an eyebrow. “Because I thought you’d appreciate not falling back to the Mage’s hands.”

I look at her, stunned.

She smiles at me, a little sadly. “I would have taken you to your house or Fiona’s, but I thought that those would be the first places the Mage would check.”

I nod. That was a smart decision. But… “But why would you help me? You barely know me.”

“Maybe, but Simon does.”

I scoff. “All the more reason to leave me for dead. I’m sure he would appreciate making sure that his nemesis doesn’t come back from the dead.”

“Oh, Basilton,” she says and shakes her head. “Do you really think Simon would want you dead?”

“Of course. He’s the Mage’s Heir. I’m a Pitch. It’s fairly simple.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Does that mean that you want Simon dead, too?”

I pause a little too long. “Of course,” I say, but it’s weak.

She gives me a watery smile. “Why is it so hard for you two to admit that you care about each other?”

“Because it’s not true?” I suggest.

“It’s not?”

“No!” I sigh. “At least not for him.”

“Really? Because people don’t tend to cry over the deaths of people they don’t care about.”

My jaw drops. I close it quickly. “He cried for me?” I remember what Bunce had said – about Simon going off when he found out about my ‘death’. I just figured that he was disappointed he wasn’t the one to off me.

Her eyes fill with tears. “You two are so stupid.”

Normally I would argue, but I’m still thrown by the revelation that Snow cried for me. It’s probably just a hero thing – to be sad even for your enemy’s death, but it still makes something in my stomach flutter. “I need to go to Wellbelove’s,” I say.

Ebb frowns. “Why?”

“I need to see Snow.”

“Simon isn’t at Agatha’s.”

That takes me by surprise. He always stays at Wellbelove’s for Christmas. “Where is he?”

“At Penny’s.”

“Then that’s where I’m going.” I move to sit up but her hand pins me down again.

“You’re not going anywhere. You can barely stand, Baz!”

“I won’t walk there. I’ll just-” What? Take the train? Steal her car?

“You need to rest.”

“I need to see Snow.”

“Why?”

_Because I passed six weeks in a coffin and another week (or was it more?) in a tomb fantasizing about him to hold on to my sanity. And now I need to realize that fantasy or I’ll really go insane._

I need to kiss him. He’ll probably kill me for my trouble, but I don’t care. Is there any better way to die than kissing Simon Snow?

Out loud I just say: “Because I asked his help with something and I want to know if he made any progress while I was… _indisposed_.” I only say that so that she will let me go to him. I don’t harbor any delusions that he would continue working on my mother’s death after I ‘died’.

“He solved it.”

I blink. “What?”

“He solved your mother’s death. It was the-”

“The Mage, I know. But… Did he really keep working on this? Even after my ‘death’?”

She smiles. “Of course he did, Baz. He promised you. And he thought that it would bring you peace.”

I’ll admit it. I tear up a little. I turn away to hide it.

“You can’t go see him, Baz,” says Ebb gently. “He still thinks you’re dead. Think about how he’ll react if he sees you there suddenly. He’ll think he’s lost his mind.”

She’s right, of course.

“But-”

She sighs. “I’ll go to Penny’s. I’ll tell him what happened and bring him here. All right?”

I nod.

“I’ll tell my mother or my sister to bring you something to eat,” she says as she stands from her chair.

“Ebb?” I say when she reaches the door.

“Yes?”

I take a breath. “Thank you.”

She smiles and leaves.

**PENELOPE**

After everything that happened yesterday, I forgot that I had invited Agatha to spend Christmas with us in order to show her that we didn’t blame her for what happened. So, when she shows up in my doorstep holding up a plate full of gingerbread biscuits, I’m a little surprised.

She understands that and sighs. “What happened now?” she asks, though she doesn’t seem like she really wants to know.

I sigh as well. “Come on in.”

We go and sit at the kitchen. I make tea and we eat the biscuits as I tell her everything that happened. When I finish, she stares at me with wide eyes. “The Mage? He got Baz’s mum killed?”

I nod. “Simon was crushed.”

Her eyes fill with sympathy. “Where is he now?”

“Upstairs. Sleeping.”

“It’s almost noon.”

“Well, he didn’t sleep all night. He was crying until five in the morning, when he passed out from exhaustion.”

She shakes her head. “How does everything keep happening to him?”

I snort. “Good question.”

She looks at the floor. “And I made it worse. I shouldn’t have trusted the Mage.”

I put my hand on her shoulder. “You had no way of knowing that he was evil, Agatha,” I say gently. “You thought you were helping Simon.”

She nods, but I see that her eyes are a little watery. I open my mouth to say something comforting again but at that moment the doorbell rings. We stand and go to the door. I open it and I see Ebb outside.

“Hey,” I say.

“Hey. Hi, Agatha. How’s Simon?”

I sigh as I step aside to let her come in. “He’s asleep now. He was crying all night.”

She nods. I’m expecting her to dissolve into tears (that seems to be her signature move) but she beams at me. Agatha must find this weird as well because she frowns.

“Um, are you okay?” I ask awkwardly.

“Something happened,” says Ebb. “Something good.”

“Really?” I say, looking at her expectantly. “Because Simon really needs _good_ right now!”

“Really.”

“Well?” I say impatiently. “Spill!”

She smiles. “Baz is alive.”

Agatha and I stare at her. “Um… What?”

“Baz is alive, Penny. When I was leaving Watford to come here to check on Simon, I saw him run across the Great Lawn. He collapsed and I brought him to my family’s house. He’s there now.”

I look at her, concerned. Poor Ebb. She’s lost her mind. “Um, Ebb. Baz can’t be alive. The Mage killed him.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Did anyone ever see a body?”

“Vampires don’t leave remains after they burn.”

“Convinient, isn’t it?”

I frown. She’s making a lot of sense for someone who’s gone insane.

She rolls her eyes and takes out her mobile phone. She taps at it a few times and gives it to me. There I see a photo of an almost skeletal Baz lying on a bed. Date taken: today.

I drop the phone. Agatha frowns and kneels to take it from the floor. She looks at it and lets out a strangled cry.

“No fucking way,” I gasp. “Basilton fucking Pitch is alive!”

“What?”

All three of us turn to the source of the voice, panicked. Simon is standing halfway down the stairs. His hair is matted and he’s still wearing his Watford pajama bottoms, so he must have just woken up. But his eyes are round and wide awake as they stare at us.

“Simon-”

“Baz is alive?”

“Well…”

He quickly descends the stairs and strides over to us with an intense look on his face. “Is. He. Alive.”

“Yes,” I sigh. “He’s at Ebb’s house.”

His face goes blank as his brain tries to process this. He staggers a little like he’s ready to collapse, but quickly finds his equilibrium again.

“Baz is alive,” he whispers, voice heavy with disbelief and hope.

“Simon-”

Suddenly the glassy look in his eyes is gone and it’s replaced with a manic energy. Before either of us can react, Simon passes between us and runs out the door.

“Simon!” we call and run behind him. We freeze when we see red leathery wings sprout out from his back and a red tail to match. Before we can recover from our shock, Simon is already on the air, flying high above our heads.

**SIMON**

Baz is alive.

_Baz is alive._

I laugh loudly as I soar though the skies.

“ _Baz is alive_!” I shout at the top of my lungs, but only the birds can hear me up here.

The words fill my brain and send a thrilling sensation to my whole body. I fly higher and higher, not even registering the cold. I feel the air against my skin and through my hair and it seems to roar the same blessed words: _Baz is alive!_

For the first time since that day Agatha told me he was dead, I feel like I can breathe again. I feel weightless. I feel alive.

_I’m going to see him again._

The thought makes adrenaline surge through my veins and sends me flying even faster.

_I’m coming for you, Baz._

**BAZ**

I swallow a mouthful of soup and it warms me up inside.

I glare at the little girl that’s sitting on the chair next to the bed with her elbows on her knees and her face propped on her hands. (I think her name’s Annie, though I’m not sure. Must be Ebb’s niece.)

“You know, it’s rude to stare,” I tell her.

“I like your teeth,” she says, unfazed.

“It’s rude to comment on other people’s teeth, as well.”

“Even if they’re vampires?”

“Especially if they’re vampires.”

I take a big bite of bread (well, I’m hungry) and the girl giggles delightedly at the sight of my fangs.

“You’re pretty,” she says. “I’ll marry you when I grow up.”

That almost makes me smile. “Vampires don’t make good husbands.”

“Why not?”

“Because we’re monsters.”

She frowns. “You don’t look like a monster.”

“Well, I am.”

“Why?”

I cock an eyebrow. “Because I drink blood.”

“Do you eat people?”

“No.”

“What do you eat then?”

“Mostly rats.”

I expect her to grimace in disgust. Instead her expression turns contemplative. "I ate a chicken yesterday.”

I suppress my laughter. “That’s not the same.”

“Why not? Rats are animals, chickens are animals. So we both eat animals.”

“I don’t eat the animals. I drink their blood.”

She taps her chin thoughtfully. “I didn’t drink the chicken’s blood,” she admits. “But I ate its meat.” Suddenly she grins. “Hey, I’m a monster, too! I’m a flesh-eating monster!” She sounds so delighted you’d think she just realized she’s the lost princess of a fairy-tale magical kingdom. I can’t help it – I laugh.

“So now we can get married,” she says smiling smugly.

“As tempting as that sounds, I’ll have to pass. You see, I like boys.”

Her face falls. “Why?” she whines. “Girls are much better than stinky boys!”

I arch an eyebrow. “I’m a stinky boy, too.”

“No, you’re not! You’re a good boy.”

The corner of my lips curls upwards as I place the tray on the bedside table now that it’s contents have been consumed. “Well, you’ll find other good boys, too.”

“There are no other good boys! They’re all stinky!” Then her face turns thoughtful. “Except maybe Simon. He’s a good boy, too.”

“Simon? Simon Snow?”

She nods eagerly. “Do you know he’s the Chosen One?”

I grin. “So I’ve heard.”

“And he’s slain a dragon!”

“Did he now?”

“Well, since _you_ don’t want to marry me, I think I’ll marry Simon.”

I chuckle. “Sorry, girl, that good boy is mine.”

She stomps her foot on the floor. “That’s not fair.” I laugh. “So he prefers boys, too?”

“I don’t know.”

“Then maybe he’ll choose me instead of you!”

“Well, you can ask him in a few minutes. He’s coming over here.”

Her face lights up again. “Simon’s coming here? That’s great!”

The door opens and a woman that looks a lot like Ebb comes in. (It must be her sister.)

“Come on, Annie,” she says to the girl as she picks up my tray. “Don’t bother the boy.”

“It’s okay,” I say and I mean it. I actually enjoy her company. She reminds me a little of my sister. (Who would have thought that a day would come that I’d miss Mordelia?)

“Nonsense,” she waves me off, not unkindly. “You need rest. Come, Annie. Go play in your room.”

“I’m not going to my room!” protests the girl. “Simon Snow is coming and I need to ask him if he wants to marry me or him!”

Thank Crowley that I haven’t drunk any blood since this morning, otherwise I would have turned as red as a tomato.

“Well, I’m sure Basilton will be able to ask Simon and then tell you what he said,” says her mother patiently.

Annie pouts but follows her mother outside. She pauses before she closes the door. “Don’t forget to ask or I’ll eat your flesh.” She smiles evilly and leaves.

I almost choke.

**SIMON**

I finally spot Ebb’s house and start to descend. I try to slow down, but my enthusiasm and anticipation don’t work in my favor. I land on the grass in a heap and I’m surprised I didn’t break anything or leave a Simon-shaped crater in the middle of the garden. I spit out the grass that’s gotten into my mouth and jump on my feet without wasting a single moment.

I run towards the door, which flies open with just a thought from my part. (Penny would freak.) With my heart in my throat, I step inside and I freeze.

Because Baz is standing at the bottom of the stairs, looking at me with a stunned expression on his face.

Baz is standing in front of me.

Baz is _alive_.

**BAZ**

After Annie left the room, I started getting restless.

Snow was coming and I was going to kiss him. For real. I had made my decision. But that didn’t mean that I wasn’t freaking out. I was pretty sure I was going to get sick. I decided to go downstairs, talk to Ebb’s relatives, do _something_ to take my mind off Snow before I started to hyperventilate. Because _that_ would be embarrassing.

I stood up slowly so that I wouldn’t pass out again. After I was sure I could stand on my feet, I staggered out of the room and started going down the stairs. When I reached the bottom of the stairs I heard a crashing sound from outside. I stood there for a few moments indecisive, when suddenly the door flew open.

Simon Snow is standing at the doorway now, frozen in shock. I stare at him. His hair is even messier than usual, like he just woke up, and he’s only wearing pajama bottoms and his cross. (Why is he still wearing that? I’ve been dead for at least a week.) And for some reason he has big dragon wings and a devil’s tail. He looks pretty terrible. There are dark crescents under his red-rimmed eyes and his face looks puffy, like he has done nothing but cry since the last time I saw him.

 _Crowley_ , he’s a sight for sore eyes _._

Our eyes are locked and I can’t move. I’m lost in his eyes. His plain blue eyes that haunted my dreams all this time I was away from him and all the time before that.

And then he starts walking towards me. He’s closing the distance between us with bold strides, his eyes blazing with determination, and I’m frozen on the spot. I didn’t expect him to attack me before I kissed him. But then again, Snow is pretty unpredictable, seeing as he always acts without thinking.

Oh, well. At least I got to see him again one last time. Do you think I’ll be able to connect our lips before his sword passes through me?

He’s almost reached me, but he still hasn’t drawn his sword. I frown and open my mouth to ask, but the words die in my throat as his lips crash into mine and I burst into flames.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it was about time :) The next chapter will be purely Snowbaz so stay tuned ;) I'm so excited!


	7. Real

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I'm back!! Sorry I didn't update sooner but I wanted this chapter to be perfect. (It still isn't but I did my best.) :)  
> Anyway, a little warning. This chapter is rated M. (Or E? I still can't tell the difference.)  
> I hope you like it ;)

**SIMON**

Only after I’ve pressed my lips on his does it occur to me that he might not appreciate the gesture. I know, _stupid_ , but in my dreams this had never been an issue. He was always more than willing to kiss me back. But now…

He freezes for a few moments and my heart starts hammering against my rib-cage as I wait for his reaction. (To push me away, scream, or maybe even light me on fire for daring to touch him.) But then his hands snake around my waist, pulling me closer, and his lips slide against mine mirroring my own fervor and it’s like a supernova exploded inside my chest. There’s also a little sadness and disappointment somewhere in the back of my hazy mind, because this has to mean that it’s another dream. ( _Of course_ it’s a dream. Good things don’t seem to happen to me. It’s like I’m cursed or something.) (Maybe _Baz_ cursed me before he died. Typical.)

But no dream felt like this. The kisses were always light and ethereal – not quite real. But now I can feel the coldness and solidness of his body against mine. The softness of his lips. The warmth of his breath against my face. I slide one hand on his chest and with the other I tug a little on his hair. I _feel_ his chest rise sharply against my hand and his little moan reverberates in my skull like the sweetest song.

This is _real_.

Baz is alive. And I’m kissing him for real.

_And he’s kissing me back._

**BAZ**

Well, that settles it. I’m dead.

I’m dead and I somehow ended up in heaven. (Or maybe it’s some weird version of hell, where Snow is the devil and he kisses the pathetic dead gay vampires as some sort of torture.) Or maybe I’m still back in the tomb and this is one of my many vivid dreams about kissing Simon Snow.

Except, this feels way too real. I can feel his body in my arms, warm and solid, and his cross rattles at the back of my throat. I can taste his mouth and smell his morning breath (even though it’s noon). I can smell the smoke in the air and feel the almost unbearable heat his body now radiates. (He’s probably ready to go off.) He tugs a little on my hair and the pain feels so good and so _real_ that it makes me moan against his mouth.

This is real. Simon is here. And he’s _kissing_ me.

_Aleister Crowley, I’m living a charmed life._

**PENELOPE**

Once Simon flew off, Ebb, Agatha and I scrambled to Agatha’s car and we drove to Ebb’s house. Every now and then, we’d catch sight of something with wings peak through the fluffy white clouds.

We turned around the corner to Ebb’s street at the same time Simon crash-landed on their garden. By the time Agatha parked and we got out of the car, Simon was already inside. We crossed the garden and ran to the door.

We freeze when we get inside. Not just because there we see the proof that Baz is alive. But also because we see Simon _kissing_ Baz.

And Baz is kissing him back!

**AGATHA**

What.

The.

_Fuck_.

**EBB**

_Finally._

**SIMON**

_Holy fucking shit._

This is real.

_Baz is alive!_

The realization sends waves of heat flood through my senses, boiling in my veins and bringing my magic to the surface. I feel hot and alive and _explosive_. I’m going off.

I pull away abruptly. Baz opens his eyes and looks at me, seeming as dazed as I feel.

“You’re alive,” I whisper.

I expect some sort of retort, something like: _“No, Snow, you were just snogging a corpse. What do you think?”_ But he just nods numbly, like he hardly believes it himself. I open my mouth to say something else, but I stop when I see his eyes widen. “Snow, you’re smoking.”

I look down at myself and I see it. Smoke rolls off my arms and my body vibrates like I’m ready to blow up.

I panic. I can’t go off in here. Ebb’s family leaves here. The house is full of kids. I usually somehow manage to protect everyone who’s near me when I go off, but the house will be annihilated. They’ll be homeless.

Predictably, my panic only makes it worse. I’m shaking really badly in my effort to keep my magic reined in. “Baz,” I plead. I don’t even know why I’m pleading or what he could do to help. He should be getting as far away from me as possible. I’m fire and vampires are flammable. And it’s not like he’s ever helped me before on such occasions. All he ever did was goad me until I went off like an H-bomb.

This time, however, he takes my face in his hands and makes me look at him. “Simon. Simon, look at me.” I do. “Breathe, Snow. Take deep breaths and calm down.”

I try, but I can’t. I’m starting to hyperventilate. _“Baz.”_

“Simon.” He lets go off my face and takes my wrists, placing my hands on his chest. “ _Breathe_ , Simon. Deep and slow, like this.” I feel the slow rise and fall of his chest as he inhales and exhales and I try to match his rhythm. I take a deep breath but it comes out shaky and I lose it. _“Baz.”_ It comes out as a strangled sob.

“Hey. Hey, Simon. Look at me.” His voice is smooth and soft and comforting. He touches my forehead with his and makes me look into his eyes. His dark grey eyes that look like storm clouds. “It’s alright. Just calm down. Breathe with me. Now in,” he inhales deeply and I mimic him. “Now out,” and we exhale. “In. And out. In. And out.” We breathe together, slowly and deeply, my chest rising and falling in time with his. I feel a little calmer but my magic is still leaking uncontrollably.

“Now let some of it go,” he says in a calm and controlled voice. “Not all of it – just a little, so that the pressure recedes a bit. Can you do that?”

I nod, my eyes still locked on his. My hands are still on his chest, so I push some of my magic to him. But my magic is still a little out of control, so I end up giving him a little too much all at once. He grimaces and lets out a strangled whine of pain.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” I try to take my hands away but his hands lock around my wrists and keep them on his chest.

“I’m fine,” he says but his voice is a little strained. “Just take it a little slow, okay?”

I close my eyes and push a little more into him. This time the flow is more controlled and Baz relaxes against my hands as the pain recedes.

Slowly, the pressure of my magic becomes more bearable. Its flow becomes even steadier and I feel cleaner and calmer.

“You alright?” I whisper.

“Brilliant,” he says and his tone makes me open my eyes. I see him smile brightly and his grey eyes are sparkling, looking so _alive_. I smile back, feeling the happiest I’ve been in a long time.

“Why don’t you cast something?” I ask him.

He grins, like he had been hoping I’d ask.

**_“Twinkle, twinkle little star! Up above the world so high!”_ **

And we’re floating among the stars again. It’s only me and him, floating through space, my hands still on his chest and our foreheads still touching.

I laugh giddily. “I always knew you were a sap.”

Baz giggles. “Shut up, Snow.”

“You called me Simon before.”

He smirks. “I did, didn’t I?” He leaves my wrists and wraps his arms around me again, bringing me closer to his body. I bury my face in the crook of his neck and let the tears fall from my eyes, feeling safe and content enclosed in his embrace. I wish we could stay like this forever.

**PENELOPE**

The three of us are so stunned that we haven’t moved an inch while all of this was happening. At one moment Simon and Baz were _snogging_ , and the next Simon was smoking and ready to go off.

Somewhere in the back of my mind I considered trying to calm him down, but then I was taken aback _again_ as Baz took it upon himself to help him. And he _succeeded_.

He talked to Simon softly but also firmly, getting through to him, even though he was so panicked. He even got him to give him a little of his magic. And then things became even weirder.

Baz cast a spell and we were off to the stars. I blinked and then turned to Agatha. I almost laughed. Her eyes were bulging and her mouth was hanging agape. I couldn’t blame her. From all the possible outcomes their little love-triangle could have had, this must have been the one she least expected. (I know _I_ didn’t expect it.) Then I turned to Ebb and I saw her smile tearfully. I didn’t know she was such a romantic.

Then Baz wraps his arms around Simon and Simon rests his head on his shoulder. They look so happy right now that I feel my own eyes fill with tears. That’s when Baz finally notices us.

His eyes meet mine over Simon’s shoulder and he freezes a little. (I think he didn’t want anyone to see him acting so… _un-Baz-like_.) (Except for Simon, of course.) I smirk and cock an eyebrow at him. He purses his lips but the corners are tugging up, like he’s trying to suppress a grin. He gives up and smiles broadly. “Shut up,” he mouths at me and then closes his eyes and kisses the top of Simon’s head.

I start crying.

**SIMON**

Baz kisses the top of my head, sending waves of warmth all the way to my toes, but he suddenly tenses.

“Simon,” he says in a strained voice, like he’s in pain.

My eyes widen. I had forgotten that I was still pushing my magic to him. Quickly, I pull back and take my hands off his chest. The stars disappear and we’re back at Ebb’s hall. “Sorry,” I whisper. “Are you okay?”

He nods, but his face is screwed up in pain. “Just a little… _burnt_.”

I look at the floor, guiltily. “Sorry.” When he doesn’t say anything, I look up again. At this moment he staggers and I manage to catch him right before his legs give away and he passes out. Even though he’s really thin ( _so_ thin), he is still taller than me and he almost drags me down with him. But at that moment other sets of hands catch him as well and we manage to hold him upright.

I look up and I see Penny and Ebb. Then I notice Agatha, who has lifted Baz’s legs from the floor.

_Shit._ I blush furiously. _How long have they been here?_

Judging by the fact that Agatha won’t meet my eyes, I’d say a while.

“Let’s take him upstairs,” says Ebb and I nod, too embarrassed to say anything.

Once he was settled on the bed, we stood around him in awkward silence.

“So...” says Penny and gestures at me. “How did you summon the wings?”

“Oh,” I say. I had completely forgotten that I still have wings and a tail. I think about them disappearing – retracting back to my body. Immediately the weight on my back is gone and Penny gasps.

“You didn’t use a spell.”

I nod. “I just thought about it… Like last time. With the Humbrum.”

She nods bravely, even though I know she’s freaking out inside. “They are different this time. Your wings.”

I shrug. “I was thinking about the dragon. How it flew away back-” I trail off, feeling my face growing hotter.

“Home,” Agatha finishes my sentence and our eyes meet for the first time. I avert my gaze immediately.

I look at Baz’s sleeping form. Only now I realize just how bad he looks. He’s lost way too much weight. His sharp cheekbones and his jawline are so prominent now that they look like they are about to cut through the thin skin on his face. He’s even paler than usual and the bags under his eyes are so dark you’d think they were bruised.

“What happened to him?” I whisper.

Ebb shrugs. “I don’t know. But he was running from the Mage when I found him. He must have kept him locked up somewhere and he managed to escape.”

I clench my eyes shut. “The Mage. Everything keeps coming back to the Mage.”

“Well, at least he didn’t kill him,” says Penny halfheartedly.

I laugh dryly.

Someone puts a hand on my shoulder. “Maybe we should let him rest,” I hear Ebb’s voice.

I open my eyes and look at Baz, lying on the bed. I nod, but when they reach the door, they realize I’m still standing at the same spot.

“Simon?” says Agatha.

I keep my gaze fixed on Baz. I’m afraid that, the moment I look away, he’ll disappear. And I can’t let that happen – I just got him back.

I feel another warm hand on my shoulder. I turn and see Agatha smiling at me, even though it feels a little forced. I think she’s a bit freaked out. I think that the only reason she hasn’t run as far away as possible from all the craziness going on around here is her guilt about what happened. “Why don’t you stay here?” she says. “Keep an eye on him, in case he needs anything.”

I’m so grateful I almost tear up. “Okay,” I say and smile at her.

She pats my back. “We’ll be at Penny’s.”

I nod. “Thank you.”

I wait for them to leave and then I go and sit on the bed next to him. I reach out and take his hand in mine, just to feel the solidness of it, just to know that he’s here and he won’t disappear again. It’s cold and bony. I feel him tug on my hand in his sleep, trying to get me close to him. I don’t need much prompting. I lie on the bed next to him, wrapping my arms around him and tangling our limbs. He sighs, content, and nuzzles my shoulder.

“D’n go…” he mumbles incoherently. “Ni’mares.”

I understand what he’s saying. I’ve been plagued by nightmares all my life, and so has he. And that was before he was kidnapped _for the second time_. I stroke his hair. “I’m here,” I whisper. “You’re okay now.”

I can feel his breathing on the crook of my neck as it evens out again. It’s comforting to hear his breaths and feel his heart beating against my chest – it’s proof that he’s alive again. Feeling calmer than I have in a while, I slowly drift off as well.

**BAZ**

I wake up to the most delicious smell. Burning wood and cinnamon and something even sweeter. My fangs graze the warm skin right next to my face and I feel a slow steady pulse right under the tips. It makes my gums ache in pleasure and I start to press the tips of my fangs on his neck-

My eyes snap open when I realize what I’m doing. I untangle myself from Snow’s sleeping form and run to the other side of the room faster than it’s humanly possible. My heart is pounding so fast that it feels it might escape from my chest.

Snow’s awake too now and he blinks as he props himself up on his elbow. “Baz?” he croaks once he sees me. I cover my mouth with my hands and push myself against the wall, like I’m hoping I can pass through it. He sits up and looks at me with… guilt? “I’m sorry,” he says, avoiding my gaze. “I shouldn’t have- I should’ve asked before-”

My eyes widen. He thinks I’ve freaked out because he climbed into bed with me. Like I hadn’t been fantasizing about that particular concept for _years_. But I guess he doesn’t know that. “No!” I say quickly, my voice muffled by my hands. “I just-” I sigh and drop my hands, showing him my fangs. “I’m hungry.”

His eyes widen in realization. “Oh!” he says, staring at my mouth. “I’ll tell Ebb. She might be able to get something for you to eat.”

I nod, feeling uncomfortable. He’s still staring at my fangs. Is he regretting snogging me now that he sees it with his own eyes that I’m a monster? Is he disgusted?

He leaves the room to talk to Ebb and I slide down the wall, swallowing my disappointment. I shouldn’t be bothered by it. Of course he would be disgusted by me. I’m a blood-sucking freak. And I already got more than I ever thought I’d get. He _kissed_ me. He joined me in my bed and held me while I was sleeping. It was nice while it lasted. And now that he’s gotten over his relief that I’m alive we can go back to being enemies and he can go back to the love of his life, Wellbelove. He isn’t even bound by the truce – he has already solved my mother’s death.

When the door opens again, I swallow the lump in my throat and make my face expressionless. Snow frowns a little when he sees me sitting on the floor, but then he just shrugs and passes me the shoe-box he’s been holding.

I cock an eyebrow at him.

“Just open it,” he says. “But slowly.”

I do as he says. The shoe-box is full of squirrels. My fangs itch, eager to puncture skin and draw blood from the little animals.

“She also said you can have a shower if you want,” says Snow and gives me a towel and some clothes. “These are her brother’s.”

I nod, feeling grateful to Ebb. I _really_ need a shower. I haven’t washed since the Mage locked me in the tomb. I stand and leave the room without giving him a second glance.

Once I’m in the bathroom, I open the shoe-box and drain every squirrel. Now that I’m full I feel much better and the hot water of the shower feels heavenly. My muscles relax and I’m starting to feel drowsy, which is perfect because I really don’t want to think about Snow and the way he was looking at me before.

I stay in the shower for a ridiculously long amount of time. I get out reluctantly and put on Ebb’s brother’s clothes. They’re really loose on me but they’re clean so I’m not complaining.

I look at the box with the squirrels’ carcasses. I can’t just leave that lying around – there are kids in this house. So I take it with me and leave the bathroom.

I walk into Annie on the hallway. “Did you talk to Simon?” she asks me the second she sees me.

“Um, yeah, I did.”

“And what did he say? Does he like boys too?”

I snort. “I wish I knew.”

She folds her arms. “Do you want _me_ to ask him?”

I chuckle. “I think you lost your chance. He must be long gone by now.”

She pouts. “That’s not fair! All the good boys are taken!”

I smirk at her. “Then why don’t you find yourself a good girl instead?”

Her face lights up. “I didn’t think of that!” she exclaims and hugs me. Then she runs off skipping.

I shake my head, smiling, and head to my room.

**SIMON**

I probably should have left after he went to feed and shower. He looked like he didn’t appreciate my presence when he woke up. It probably didn’t help that I kept staring at him when he showed me his fangs. But he looked so… well, _hot_. Only Baz could pull that off – looking sexy with deadly teeth and eyes foggy with hunger.

When the door opens and Baz sees me, I realize he _expected_ me to have left. He frowns, puzzled, but he doesn’t say anything. He hides the shoe-box under the bed and sits on the bed next to me with his back against the headboard.

“You know, you don’t _have_ to stay,” he says staring at the opposite wall. “I’ll be fine.”

“I know,” I say nervously. I swallow. “Do you _want_ me to leave?”

He glances at me once before he looks away again. He sighs. “No.”

I sigh, too – with relief. “I don’t want to leave, either.”

He looks at me again and our eyes lock. I clear my throat, feeling a little uncomfortable. “Do you feel better now?”

He nods. “Much better.”

I nod too. “Good.”

We sit in awkward silence for a while. The tension is practically palpable. After five minutes, I can’t take it anymore. I chuckle uneasily. “This is so weird,” I say.

He laughs as well. “Tell me about it. We’ve been in each other’s presence for hours and we still haven’t tried to kill each other.”

“I know, right? You’ve been alive for almost a whole day and you haven’t insulted me once! It’s _unnerving_.”

He cocks an eyebrow, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “You want me to insult you, Snow?”

I chuckle. “ _Please_. I won’t believe you’re alive until you do.”

He rolls his eyes. “Moron.”

I grin. “Prat.”

“Git.”

“Prick.”

“Stupid oaf.”

“Pompous arse.”

“Immature twat.”

I laugh. “Twat?”

He scowls. “What’s wrong with twat?”

“Nothing. I just never thought I’d ever hear something like that come out of your pretentious mouth.”

Baz scoffs. “Dolt.”

“Hey!” I elbow him. “It’s my turn!”

“Your turn to what?"

“To insult you!”

He arches an eyebrow. “Pretentious _is_ an insult.”

I pout. “You’re cheating, Baz.”

He laughs. “And you’re an idiot.”

I punch his arm. “It’s still my turn!”

Baz laughs again and I join him. I feel delirious. _Crowley_ , I missed this. The insulting, the bickering, the teasing. And, judging by the soft look he’s giving me right now, he missed this too. Which gives me the courage to take his hand in mine.

He’s surprised, but he squeezes my hand and I smile. “I’m glad you’re alive.”

His eyes meet mine, uncertain. “Did you really go off when you found out I died?”

I bite my lip and nod. I can see he’s trying to suppress a smile, but his lips keep twitching. He looks away, almost embarassed. “And you kept working on my mother’s death?”

I squeeze his hand. “Of course.” I smirk. “Chosen Ones never break their promises.”

**BAZ**

I smile back. I remember telling him that exact phrase the day the Mage hunted me down. It must have been one of the last things I said to him before I ‘died’. Which is probably why he remembers it. I did the same thing when my mother died – kept thinking about the last thing she said to me, like I hoped there had been some kind of explanation in her words about what happened, or some advice to help me go on. After lots of thought, I had realized that the last time she spoke to me was when she dropped me off at the nursery. Her last words to me were: “I’ll see you later, little puff. Be good.”

_“Be good.”_

That’s good advice, I suppose. I just wish I had followed it.

I snap out of my depressing train of thought and look at Snow. He looks a bit sad too right now.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

I frown. “About what?”

“About trusting the Mage.” He shakes his head and laughs mirthlessly. “You’ve been telling me for years. And I didn’t believe you. I just- I thought-” He draws a shaky breath and closes his eyes.

I wrap my arm around him and bring him close to me. He rests his head on my shoulder and I kiss the top of his head. He sighs. “What are you going to do now?” he asks quietly. “Will you- Will you kill him?”

I swallow. “Yes.”

I expect him to shout at me, or plead with me to change my mind. But he just nods.

I breathe deeply to steel my courage for what I’m about to ask next. “Will you help me?”

He opens his eyes and straightens. He takes a deep breath before he answers me. “Yes.”

My eyes widen. “Why?”

“Because he’s evil. Because he killed your mother and he hurt you.” He smiles sadly and bumps my shoulder. “And because you’ll get killed without me. _Again_.”

I stare at him for a few moments. I didn’t think it was possible for me to love him more. And yet here I am – feeling like my chest is going to explode if I don’t kiss him.

So I do.

**SIMON**

Baz grabs me so suddenly that for a second I think he’s going to bite me. But then his lips collide with mine and every coherent thought melts away.

This kiss is different from the previous one. It’s sloppy, erratic, lustful. He sucks and bites at my lips hungrily, while he tangles his fingers in my curls, pulling them a little. A muffled moan escapes my lips and I kiss him back fervently, sliding my tongue inside his mouth. I kneel on the mattress and pull him up with me as well. My hands start sliding up and down his body, wanting to feel every part of him like I can’t get enough.

Suddenly he breaks the kiss. His hand grabs the chain of my cross (I had forgotten I was still wearing it) and he pulls it off, throwing it on the floor. Then he joins our lips once more, but he pulls away again way too soon. An embarrassing whining sound leaves my mouth, but it turns into a moan of pleasure as he starts sucking and licking at my neck. I close my eyes, relishing how real this feels compared to my dreams. I remember waking up at night, crying, because I thought that I could never have this for real. And I’m crying _now_ , because I realize I _can_ have this. I _am_ having this. Right now.

Something between a sob and a laugh escapes my throat and Baz looks up at me breathing heavily, his eyes concerned. I laugh, letting the tears fall. “This is real,” I say, feeling deliriously happy. “We’re actually doing this.”

He frowns. “You want to, right?” He looks really worried.

I laugh again and press my lips to his with so much force that our teeth crash. He laughs against my mouth and pulls me even closer to him, so that I feel every single part of his body pressed against mine. But it’s not enough.

I slide my hands under his too-big T-shirt and, without pausing to think whether I’m going too fast, I break the kiss to pull it over his head and throw it away. I pause to look at him... and I stop.

He’s so fucking thin. So thin that each and every one of his ribs is visible and his hipbones stick out sharply. I feel the anger rise in my throat. What did the Mage do to him?

His hand grabs my chin and makes me look up at his face. His face is flushed, his pupils so dilated I can hardly see the grey, and he’s so beautiful like this – hot and disheveled – that every thought about the Mage leaves my brain. I push him to lie back at the pillows and I straddle his hips. My mouth meets his and then it goes lower, to his throat, his collar-bone, his chest, his stomach. I suck and lick at his cold skin as he gasps and moans, until I reach his lower abdomen. I stop only for a second, just to glimpse at the bulge in his sweat-pants which confirms that he’s just as aroused as I am, and then I hook my hands on his waistband.

I see his eyes widen as I pull his pants and his boxers off. I pause, looking at his erection a little apprehensively. I’ve never thought I’d be doing something like this before and I’m a little unprepared. I’m not even sure if I’m _gay_ yet. All that I know for sure is that I want him. And that’s enough for now.

I brush my fingertips along the length of his cock, lightly – teasingly. I hear his sharp intake of breath as he arches his back and bites down a groan. A smug grin starts forming on my lips when suddenly he tugs at the waistband of my pajama bottoms forcefully and I fall on top of him, our erections colliding and drawing loud groans from both of us.

With one swift motion, he takes my pants and my boxers off (how did he even do that?) and then we’re both completely naked – skin on skin. We kiss again, hungrily, messily, rolling on the mattress and clutching onto each other desperately, wanting to feel the other’s solidness – to convince ourselves that this is _real_. But this feeling is so out of this world that I have a hard time believing it.

**BAZ**

I can’t believe this is happening. I’m in bed with Snow – naked. I can feel his hot skin burning against mine, his wet mouth on my lips, his cock hard against my own.

_He wants me._

This isn’t just pity, or relief, or misdirected guilt.

_He really wants me._

The realization makes every cell of my body come alive and hum with arousal. I almost come right at that moment. But I’ll be damned if I don’t give him release first.

I pin his body on the mattress and break our kiss. He lets out a little whimper, but then my mouth comes in contact with his skin again, trailing kisses from his neck all the way down to his stomach. And then I go even lower.

His whole body tenses as I move down the trail of dark blond hairs under his navel. I stop right before I reach the base of his cock and I start licking the inner of his thighs. He whimpers pathetically. _“Baz.”_

I take his cock in my hand and he whimpers again. I smile a little before I take him in my mouth.

A loud groan comes out of his lips and it makes my own cock throb, so I reach down one hand and start jerking off, while my mouth works on him. I suck hard and fast, not bothering to draw this out. After everything, all we both want is release, as quickly as possible, or we might explode. (In Simon’s case, maybe literally. I can feel his magic seeping out of him and making my already foggy brain fuzzy.) I just work in this quick rhythm, both on him and on me, while he’s moaning and writhing, until he arches his back and grasps hard at the sheets.

“B-Baz,” he utters. “I- I’m close-”

I would be quite content in letting him finish in my mouth, but this time I want to look at his face when he comes. So I take him out of my mouth and climb up the bed until I’m straddling him. I connect our lips again in a wet sloppy kiss, my one hand pressed on his sweaty back, pulling him up at me, while the other grabs both of our cocks and starts pumping in a frenzied rhythm. His breathing is erratic against my mouth and his hands slide in my hair, pulling hard. Our hips start rocking up and down as we reach the climax, and then Simon suddenly goes rigid and his back rises high above the mattress as his cock throbs in my hand and gets sticky white liquid all over it.   

_“Baz.”_

That single syllable, along with the sight of his face as he comes (eyes closed, lips parted, face flushed and alive) is enough to throw me over the edge. And then I’m coming too, so hard that I almost black out, and after all these years of longing and wanting, when it all comes to a head it’s a sob that breaks out of my lips instead of a moan or a scream, and tears of pure joy well in my eyes. I collapse on top of him, still crying, because, _Crowley_ , this was even better than I imagined it would be.

**SIMON**

I stroke Baz’s hair groggily, utterly spent but also so satisfied and happy that I’m practically crying. And, judging by the dampness I feel on my chest where Baz’s head is resting after he collapsed on top of me, I’m not the only one.

I can’t help it. I laugh.

Baz raises his head sluggishly and frowns at me. “What’s so funny?” He looks almost hurt.

I wipe his damp cheeks gently. “I just- Well, I never imagined that my first time would be with _Baz Pitch_ from all people.”

I see the corner of his lips tug up before he rests his head on my chest again. “ _I_ did. But I didn’t think it would happen anywhere else besides my imagination.”

I blink. “Wha- Wait. How long-”

“Seven and a half years.”

I open my mouth. Then close it again. Then I burst out laughing again. I can feel him tense against me, so I rush to explain, “You had a really funny way of showing it.”

He relaxes again and lets out a snort. “What are you talking about, Snow? You mean to tell me that unleashing a chimera on you didn’t sweep you off your feet?”

“Are you kidding me? That was like, the _epitome_ of romantic gestures.”

“I know, right?”

We laugh and it feels so good. I feel so happy and safe and content. His weight on me feels strangely comforting and his cold skin cools mine, which is still sizzling slightly from the build-up magic. I crane my neck and kiss his forehead. He closes his eyes and sighs before he speaks, “How long have _you_ wanted this?”

“I don’t know,” I say truthfully.

Baz snorts. “You don’t know?”

“I’m really good at not thinking about stuff I can’t help or can’t have. And I suppose… _this_ fits both categories.”

He sighs again. “I suppose it does… So when did you actually start… _thinking_ about it?”

I huff. “When I _most definitely_ knew that I couldn’t have it. I guess I figured it didn’t matter anymore. What I felt.”

He kisses a mole on my chest. “It does now.”

I smile. “Yeah.” But the smile disappears quickly because now that I brought up the time I thought he was dead it doesn’t leave my mind. “What did he do to you?” I whisper.

He lifts his head again and his eyes meet mine, searching and cautious. “Are you sure you want to know?”

I set my jaw. “Yes.”

Another sigh. He rolls off me and sits up on the bed, with his back against the headboard. I sit up as well and look at him. He picks up his wand from the bedside table and cleans up the mess we created before he shrugs nonchalantly. “There’s not much to tell, really. He just kept me locked up. Starved me. That’s pretty much it.”

_Oh, is_ that _all?_ I want to say sarcastically. Instead I press for more. “Where did he keep you?”

“The Catacombs,” he says but he won’t meet my eyes and I know he’s hiding something.

“Baz.”

He sighs and closes his eyes. “In my mother’s tomb.”

My blood goes cold. “Your-” I can’t even finish the sentence. I feel positively sick.

He opens his eyes again and looks at me with concern. “Simon?”

I shake my head. “I’m fine.” I’m certainly _not_ fine. I can feel the bile rise up my throat and my magic starts sizzling again in my veins. But I want to know more. “How did you get out?”

He’s still eyeing me worryingly. “Actually, it was thanks to Bunce’s brother that I escaped.”

I frown. “Who- You mean _Premal_? _He_ helped you escape?”

“Yeah. After I told him about the Mage keeping me locked up in a coffin for six weeks and about him being responsible for my mother’s death, he had a change of heart.”

“Wow.” I shake my head. Who would have thought?

We stay in silence for a little while. I try to rein in my emotions (anger, hatred, betrayal, disappointment) but it’s hard. It’s _so fucking hard_.

As soon as the tears start to fall, Baz’s arms are around me, holding me close and stroking my hair. He pecks the top of my head. “It’s okay, love. It’s okay.”

I snort bitterly as sobs start breaking through my throat. “That’s the one thing it’s not. Okay.”

I hear his smile rather than see it. “Turning my own words against me, Snow? I’m impressed.” I try to smile as well, but it comes out as a grimace. “Simon,” he says softly. I look up and he kisses me gently, sweetly. “You’re right. It’s not okay. But it will be. I promise.” He smirks at me. “And Chosen Ones aren’t the only ones who keep their promises.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soo... What did you think? I have to admit, I'm really nervous about this chapter. I haven't written smut before so I apologize if it was awkward...  
> Also, the next chapter is probably going to be the last, but there will also be an epilogue.


	8. Father

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I'm back!! So sorry for the long wait! I really wanted to update sooner but my depression has been getting worse and I kind of lost all motivation to write (or to exist in general...) Thankfully, the medication has kicked in and I managed to write this chapter, so here you go!

**PENELOPE**

“Where’s Simon?” asks my mother while she sets the table using one hand, as the other one is holding a book she’s reading simultaneously. Even _I_ am impressed at her skill in multi-tasking.

Agatha and I exchange a glance. “Um…”

“He went to Ebb’s house,” Agatha offers. “She, um, invited him to spend Christmas with her.”

“That’s nice,” says mum absently as she sits down to join her family at the table.

Agatha chuckles slightly at the sight of my (admittedly very weird) family. My parents and my siblings (minus Premal) are all eating without raising their heads from their books or laptops. I shrug at her and dig in my food. This crazy day has made me really hungry.

Like she read my thoughts, Agatha whispers, “I still can’t wrap my head around it.”

“Which one?” I question quietly. “The fact that Baz is alive or that he and your ex-boyfriend are snogging?”

She snorts. “Both.” She bites her lip. “Though, in a weird way, it does make sense.”

I almost choke on my mouthful. “It does?”

Agatha shrugs and takes a sip from her water. “Well, they always had an unhealthy obsession with each other. Really, we should have seen it coming.”

I laugh. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

“What are you girls talking about?” asks my mother, still not looking up from her book.

“School,” I say at the same time Agatha says, “Boys.”

Mum raises her head and arches an eyebrow at us, but before she can say anything the doorbell rings.

“It must be Simon,” I say and stand up from my seat to follow my mother to the door.

Mum opens the door. It isn’t Simon. It’s the Mage and his Men.

My mother’s expression hardens as my blood freezes in my veins. “Can I help you?” she says coldly.

“I’m looking for Mr. Snow,” says the Mage.

“He isn’t here at the moment.”

He scowls. “Where is he?”

“We don’t know,” I say quickly. “He didn’t say where he was going.”

His scowl deepens before he turns back to his Men. “Search the house.”

“Now, wait a moment!” starts my mother, infuriated, but the Mage’s Men are already inside. I scowl at Premal but he ignores me as he goes to follow the Mage’s order. “You have no right to do this!”

I don’t hear the Mage’s answer. My blood has gone cold. Because I suddenly remember that we haven’t erased the whiteboard at the library. If his Men see it...

_Fuck._

My father and Agatha come to the hallway as well. Agatha’s eyes widen when she sees the Mage and comes to stand beside me. “What’s going on here?” dad inquires.

“We’re screwed,” I whisper to Agatha.

She pales, but as the adults are currently arguing amongst themselves they don’t notice. “What does he want?”

“Simon.”

She bites her lip. “This can’t be good.”

Five minutes later, the Mage’s Men are all back at the hallway after having thoroughly searched the house. “No sign of him,” says one of them.

“You didn’t find… _anything_?” inquires the Mage, looking at them intently.

Premal catches my eye and I just _know_ that he saw the whiteboard. Then he responds, “Nothing, sir.”

The Mage exhales, looking impatient. “Where is he?” he asks me, his eyes hard.

“I told you, I don’t know!”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m telling the truth! He didn’t tell us where he was going!”

The Mage looks enraged and I know that there’s no way he’s going to let this go.

“Sir,” says Premal, looking unsure. “Perhaps…”

“What?”

“Perhaps you should let _me_ talk to them.” He looks more confident now. “I know I can convince them to see sense. And in the meantime you can move on to Plan C, just to be sure. This way we won’t waste any time.”

The Mage thinks about it. “Alright. Contact me if you find out something.”

“Yes, sir.”

The Mage and his Men leave the house and I let out a breath I didn’t even know I was holding.

“Premal, if you think for a second-” starts mum, looking really angry.

“We need to talk,” Premal interrupts her with an urgent look on his face.

“We have nothing to tell you, we don’t know where Simon is,” I say.

He shakes his head. “You don’t understand. He’s planning something big.”

“We don’t care!” I shout. “He isn’t dragging Simon into it!”

“Penny, shut up and listen, okay?”

I cross my arms.

Premal sighs and starts pacing at the hallway. “I snooped around his office yesterday and found something-”

“What?” I say, incredulously. “Why were you snooping around the Mage’s office?”

He shakes his head. “I was looking for Pitch’s wand and I also wanted to make sure that what he told me was true-”

_“What?”_ I practically shriek. “You mean you knew that Baz was alive?”

“Of course I knew!” says Premal impatiently.

“And you didn’t tell me? Simon has been losing his mind-”

“Penny, we don’t have time for this! If he doesn’t find Simon, he will find another way to do the ritual and then it will be too late!”

“What ritual?” asks my mother. “What is he planning?”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you!”

“Okay, talk,” says mum sternly.

“So, as I was saying, I was looking through his stuff, and I found an old book and a journal. The old book was about a ritual.”

“What kind of ritual?” asks dad, barely conceiling his curiosity.

“One that would give a fetus immense power – greater than anything we’ve ever seen before.”

“Wait,” says Agatha, eyes widening. “You mean to tell us-”

Premal nods. “It was the Mage that gave Simon his powers.”

My jaw drops. “But… _How?_ Did he just steal a random baby and- and-”

“No, the ritual had to start while the baby was still in its mother’s womb. So he had to have known the mother and get her consent.”

Agatha shakes her head. “What woman would allow him to perform a ritual on her unborn child? Who could _trust_ the Mage so much?”

My mother’s face goes blank. “Lucy,” she whispers.

“What?” I say. 

“Oh, Lucy.” She shakes her head and tears glisten in her eyes. “Foolish girl.”

“Look, we don’t have time to figure out the mystery of Simon Snow’s origins!” Premal shouts.

“Why?”

“Because at the journal he had written down a variation of that ritual. One that could allow someone to steal another mage’s power.”

I gasp. “You- You mean that- He wants to steal Simon’s magic?”

He nods gravely. “Yes. And it has to be done tonight.”

“But he won’t find him, right?” says Agatha, trying to hide her panic. “And if he doesn’t find him tonight, he won’t be able to do the ritual and everything will be alright.”

Premal shakes his head. “If he doesn’t find Simon, then he will use someone else. He won’t waste this opportunity.”

“Who does he want to use if he doesn’t find Simon?” asks my mum.

“Plan B was to use Baz Pitch. But now that he’s escaped-”

“Wait, Baz Pitch is dead,” says dad, confused.

I shake my head. “No, dad, he’s alive, we saw him.”

“If Baz Pitch escaped as you say,” says mum urgently. “Then who’s Plan C?”

“Ebb Petty.”

My eyes widen. “Ebb? He’s going to Ebb’s house?” My voice is high-pitched with panic.

He frowns. “Yes, why?”

Agatha gasps. “That’s where Simon and Baz are!”

“Oh, no,” says mum. “That’s bad.”

_That’s an understatement._

“Does Simon have his phone with him?” asks dad.

“A phone?” I sound hysterical. “He didn’t even put clothes on before he flew off!”

“Flew?” Premal frowns.

Mum shakes her head. “We’ll find another way to contact him. In the meantime.” She looks at dad. “You stay home with the kids.” Then she turns to us. “Let’s go find Simon.”

**SIMON**

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you eat before,” I say, watching Baz curiously as he takes a bite from the roast beef. Ebb brought us a tray full of food a few minutes ago, as she guessed that we’d probably prefer to stay in the room instead of going down to the kitchen to eat. (Thank Merlin that we were dressed by the time she opened the door. _That_ would have been awkward.)

“That’s because I was careful.”

I reach out and pull up his lip in order to get a better look at his fangs. “Wicked.”

He swats my hand away. “Idiot,” he says rolling his eyes, but he’s grinning.

We keep eating in silence. For once I try to eat as little as I can, so that Baz can eat more. I can’t stand looking at how thin he’s become.

When we finish, we put the tray aside and look at each other almost shyly. It’s still weird between us. After years of hating each other, it’s a little hard to get used to us being… What, boyfriends? I laugh inwardly. This is mental.

I lean in and kiss him, softly, timidly. His lips respond with the same caution. Even without the desparate lust that had overcome us before, it still feels amazing.

He pulls away a little. “Simon,” he says quietly, eyes downcast.

“What is it?”

“Simon, I’m… I’m a vampire.”

I snort with laughter. “You don’t say. I had no idea.”

He rolls his eyes. “I mean that now everyone knows. Even if the Mage is gone, the Coven will still want to kill me. Or at least snap my wand and take out my fangs.”

“I won’t let them.”

Baz snorts and shakes his head. “You’re not omnipotent, Snow. And you can’t just go off to scare them into doing what you want.”

I shrug. “I can try.”

He sighs, exasperated. “Snow-”

I grab his chin and make him look at me. “I just got you back, Baz. I’m not letting anything happen to you. I’m _not_. Okay?”

Instead of an answer, he connects our lips again and at once I forget all about the Mage, the Coven and everything outside this room. I give myself over to the kiss completely, when suddenly he snaps his head back.

“Simon!” he shrieks, his voice so high-pitched that it sounded like a girl’s voice.

“What?” I say taken aback. Did I do something wrong? 

“Ew!” He starts wiping at his mouth in disgust. “Ew, ew, ew!”

Wait a second. This _is_ a girl’s voice. A very familiar girl’s voice. _“Penny?”_

“Jesus Christ, Simon!” He- _she_ shudders.

“Penny, why the fuck are you possessing Baz?”

“Baz?” He- _she_ looks down. “Oh, fuck. He’s going to kill me.” Then she frowns at me. “Wait, you were kissing Baz? So now you two are _snogging_ now? Like, _properly snogging_?”

I blush, remembering what we were doing earlier on this very bed. “Um, well…”

She shakes her head. “Actually, never mind. Even though I’m dying to know, we have bigger problems.”

I sit straighter. Things must be really serious if Penny can actually stop herself from prying. “What’s wrong?”

Her face – Baz’s face – is now very serious. “Simon, you need to get out of there.”

“Why?”

“Because the Mage is coming to Ebb’s house.”

“ _What?_ Why?”

“We think he wants to steal your magic.”

Everything inside me freezes. “What?” My voice is so small it’s barely audible.

Her eyes are pleading. “Simon, please, you need to get out of there. Take Baz and Ebb with you.”

“Ebb? Why?”

“If he doesn’t find you, he’ll use her for the ritual.”

“What ri-”

“Simon, please, we don’t have time! The Mage is already on his way! You need to leave!”

I stand up. “Where are you?”

“We’re on our way there. Tell Ebb to drive towards our house. We’ll meet on the way.”

“Okay.”

Baz blinks. He frowns at me, disoriented, and I know Penny isn’t possessing him anymore. “Snow?”

“We need to leave,” I tell him briskly. “The Mage is coming.”

His eyes widen a little, but he keeps his cool. “Okay,” he says and stands up.

We rush out of the room and down the stairs. We find Ebb at the kitchen, having Christmas dinner with her family. “Ebb, we’ve got to go.”

She frowns. “What’s wrong?”

“The Mage is on his way. You need to come with us, too.”

I can see the fear in her eyes, but she stands up and follows us to the door, waving away her family’s questions. We open the door to go outside and we freeze.

The Mage and his Men are standing right outside.

We’re screwed.

**BAZ**

The Mage’s eyes widen at the sight of our little party at the doorway.

“Simon!” he says, startled. “What are you-” His gaze falls on me. “What’s Mr. Pitch doing here?”

Snow’s eyes spark angrily. “I should ask you the same question.”

The Mage blinks, surprised by Snow’s anger. “Simon, I had to lie. If his family knew that he was still alive, they would have tried to free him.”

“Well, you shouldn’t have imprisoned him in the first place!”

“Simon,” says the Mage in a patient tone, like Snow is a child and he is being unreasonable. “He’s a vampire.”

“He’s never killed anyone!” shouts Simon and my heart melts at the way he’s defending me. “Wish I could say the same about you!”

The Mage pauses. “What are you talking about?”

Simon sets his jaw, looking at the Mage defiantly. “Natasha Grimm-Pitch.”

There are a few moments of stunned silence. My eyes are fixed on the Mage’s face, challenging him to deny it. Deny that he got my mother killed. Deny that he’s the reason I’m a blood-sucking monster.

_I dare you, you bloody bastard. Give me a reason to rip your fucking throat open._

“Simon, I don’t know what he’s been telling you, but you should remember that he’s a vampire-”

“Wrong vampire, Davy,” comes a voice from the garden and the Mage and his Men whip around to look at the newcomer. A blond man that looks a lot like Ebb is standing in the middle of the garden, his eyes flashing hungrily.

“You?” says the Mage and then turns to Snow. “Simon, don’t tell me you believe this lowlife! He crossed over voluntarily!”

Ebb takes a step forward, looking angry for the first time. “This lowlife is my brother!” she spits.

The Mage shakes his head. “Simon, you can’t believe these people over me.”

“Why? Why should I trust you? After all the times you lied to me?”

“Because I took you in! I believed in you!”

“No, you used me! I was nothing more than a weapon to you!”

“That’s not true.”

“Isn’t it? So you don’t want to steal my power?”

My head turns so fast my neck cracks. _“What?”_

Simon doesn’t answer me. He’s looking at the Mage defiantly, daring him to deny it.

The Mage, who was caught off guard by Simon’s revelation, finally regains his composure. “It’s for the best.”

I feel Simon’s fiery hot magic build up as his anger flares. “ _How?_ How is _that_ for the best?”

“Because you can’t control it!” shouts the Mage, and Simon steps back like he was struck. The Mage takes a deep breath to calm himself and when he looks at Simon again his eyes are softer. “It’s not your fault, Simon. It’s mine. The ritual that granted you your power was flawed, but now I can fix-”

My eyes widen. _“What?”_ I shake my head in disbelief. “ _You_ gave him his power?” I remember all the crazy conspiracy theories my aunt Fiona used to weave about the Mage and I suddenly realize they weren’t that far-fetched. If anything, they’re proving to be quite moderate compared to the actual truth.

“Of course! I had the power to create the Chosen One! And who would be a better candidate for that than my own son?”

Simon goes rigid next to me. “What?” His voice is small, ready to break. “You- You’re-”

He looks so lost. So broken. I know he always wanted to know who his parents were. (I actually took advantage of that once, to lure him to a trap. I’m not very proud of that.) And I know he always hoped that it would be the Mage. (He never told me that. But I know.) Turning out that he _is_ actually his father after he just found out that he’s evil… It’s like some sick joke.

I want to take him into my arms and shield him from the whole world. I want to stroke his hair and whisper soft things in his ear until he forgets everything that’s hurting him. But I can’t do that – not here, not now. So I just take his hand in mine, try to convey all these thoughts through the touch of my hand.

Surprisingly, Simon seems to be drawing strength from the gesture and he straightens again, squeezing my hand slightly. “It doesn’t matter,” he says coldly. “You’ve never been a father to me. I was just a pawn in your games. But not anymore. If you want my magic, try and get it. But I won’t stand idly by. I’ll fight you if I have to.”

The Mage has the nerve to look disappointed. “I hoped it wouldn’t come to this. I’m sorry, Simon. But this is bigger than you and me.”

Before I can even think to take out my wand, the Mage fires a spell straight at me. I stay where I am, frozen, watching the curse whoosh towards me helplessly. But, thank Merlin, Ebb is faster than me. She shouts something and the spell stops midair like it hit an invisible barrier, and then it reflects back at them, hitting one of the Mage’s Men.

Then, a cascade of curses, all aimed at Ebb, fly through the air, but she deflects them with her wand. Some of the deflected spells hit the casters and they fall on the ground unconscious. I blink in surprise. I had no idea the goatherd was this powerful. Without letting go of my hand, Simon summons his sword and I take out my wand at the same time. From behind, the blond man starts firing spells at the Men as well, thinning their ranks considerably.

But they’re still too many. Before I have time to utter a single spell, one of the Mage’s curses blasts through Ebb’s magickal shield and knocks her out. The blond man gets distracted for a moment as he watches Ebb go down and a curse sent by one of the Mage’s Men gets him too.

“Ebb!” screams Snow and I flinch away as a scalding wave of heat hits me. But Simon takes my hand back in his and starts pushing magic into me.

The Mage turns towards me again now that Ebb and the man are out and unleashes fire at me.

**_“U can’t touch this!”_ **

My voice booms above everyone else’s. The Mage and his Men all fly back, landing a good twenty feet away, sprawled on the grass. The fire the Mage had conjured goes out instantly before it reaches me. Now, all around me and Simon there’s a large luminescent hemisphere, protecting us from any spell.

But I can’t hold up the shield much longer. I still feel a little burnt from a few hours ago when Simon shared his magic with me and I feel like I’m ready to catch fire from the inside any second. When I feel I can’t take it anymore, I let go of Simon’s hand and the sphere dissolves.

I sink to the ground, feeling completely spent, the absence of Simon’s magic both draining and welcome.

“Baz!” Simon kneels next to me, his face scrunched up in worry.

“I’m- I’m fine,” I force out and my voice is tight and rough, giving away my pain.

Simon says something else but I don’t hear him because I see the Mage scramble back to his feet, his wand pointed towards us.

He opens his mouth to cast and I have neither the time nor the energy to defend myself. “Simon,” is all I can say, even though I know it’s too late for him to do anything. Still, I like the idea of dying with his name on my lips.

**_“Cat got your tongue!”_ **

My head snaps up. That wasn’t the Mage. That was a girl’s voice.

And then I see her. Bunce, along with her mother, brother and Wellbelove, are all running through the garden with their wands drawn. Mrs. Bunce and her son start throwing spells towards the remaining Mage’s Men, taking them out one by one. Wellbelove runs to Ebb’s side and starts casting healing spells on the goatherd. The Mage is currently holding his throat, unable to speak for the moment, but I know he’ll get his voice back at any second. Bunce is powerful, but not enough to take down the Mage.

Suddenly, I feel Simon’s hand close around mine again.

“Can you take it?” he asks softly. “Just once more?”

I look into his blue eyes, gazing back at me with concern. I smile. “Let’s do this.”

I feel his magic climb up my arm like electrical sparks, threatening to set me ablaze at any moment. I stand upright again, pulling Simon up with me, and I look a the Mage, who’s aiming his wand at us again, free of Penelope’s spell.

I raise my wand as soon as he opens his mouth and I bellow: **_“Cat got your tongue!”_**

The Mage’s eyes bulge. The wand falls from his hand and his knees hit the ground. There’s blood leaking from his closed lips and he brings his hands to his mouth, his face distorted with pain. I frown. I’ve never heard of such a reaction to this spell.

I glance at Snow (who, thankfully, has stopped pushing magic to me, or else I’d be nothing more than ashes right now) and his eyes are open wide, looking horrified. “What?”

“Cat got your tongue,” he whispers.

“What?”

He shakes his head and starts walking towards him, dragging me along. The Mage is currently on all fours (well, actually on all threes, as his other hand is still on his mouth) and he’s making muffled pained sounds. When we get closer, his hand leaves his mouth and he starts spitting blood on the ground. Like, _a lot of_ blood. It makes my fangs itch. Something more solid falls on the ground as well and at first I think that it’s a lump of blood. But then Penelope joins us and her eyes are as wide as Snow’s and looking equally horrified.

“Is that… his _tongue_?”

“Fuck,” I say. Not guilty or triumphant. Just surprised.

We hear a gagging sound and we turn towards Wellbelove, who’s currently disposing off the Christmas dinner she ate at Bunce’s house. Mrs. Bunce goes over to her and pulls back her hair as she retches. Ebb, who has awoken by now ,looks at Agatha with sympathy before she stands up and goes over to her brother who's still unconscious.

“Now what?” asks Simon quietly, looking at me. “Are you going to kill him?”

I clench my jaw but I don’t say anything. I feel my hatred towards the Mage burn inside me, as hotly as Simon’s magic earlier.

He’d deserve it. After everything he did, the bloody bastard _deserves_ to die. He deserves _worse_.

I point my wand at him. The Mage looks up, the lower part of his face all bloodied, but his eyes are blazing with hatred as he’s looking at me. Like _I_ was the one who killed his mother and turned him into a monster.

My fangs pop out as my anger flares and I’m ready to set the bastard on fire. But.

_Simon._

I glance towards him. He looks like he’s in pain. Broken. Usually he’s so full of life. He’s like a star, a supernova, blazing and bursting with magic and lighting up the whole universe. But right now he looks so small and toned down, his fire dying out.

Part of me wants to hurt the Mage even more – to make him pay for putting Simon through all this. But another part of me knows that I’ll just be making it worse.

Even if he’s a terrible father, he still is Simon’s father. And for years he has been his mentor, his protector, the person he looked up to the most. I never understood Simon’s loyalty to the Mage and I know that now that loyalty is dead, but that doesn’t mean his death won’t hurt Simon. And he’ll hate me for that. He won’t say it, but I know that from now on he’ll see me and think of this day, of when I killed his father.

My eyes harden.

“Baz, don’t!” yells Bunce.

I don’t pay attention to her. My eyes lock with the Mage’s and I make sure they convey all my hatred for him. “You took enough from me. I won’t let you ruin the only thing I’ve got left.”

“Pitch, stop!” shouts Bunce’s brother.

**_“Sleep tight!”_ **

The Mage’s body goes limp and slumps to the ground, blood still streaming from his mouth.

Everyone’s eyes are on me, full of surprise. I pay them no mind. Instead I turn to Simon, who practically falls into my arms. He’s sobbing and shaking, all the overwhelming emotions of the day finally reaching boiling point and spilling out of him, and it seems like the only things holding him together are my arms that are wrapped around him tightly.

“It’s okay,” I whisper. “It’s all going to be okay.”

A laugh breaks out of his lips, followed by more sobs. “You promised, so it’d better be. Or I’ll be really cross.”

I chuckle softly and kiss his hair. “And we wouldn’t want that, would we?”

“Nope.” He sniffles and pulls away a little so that he can see my face. His eyes are red and his face is damp with still-running tears, but he’s smiling at me. “Thanks. For not killing him.”

I return the smile and bring my hand to his face, wiping away the tears. “I did have an ulterior motive.”

He chuckles. “You wouldn’t be Baz if you didn’t have an ulterior motive. So, what is it?”

I lean in and whisper in his ear, “I wanted to make you fall in love with me.”

Simon laughs again and takes my face in his hands. “Too late for that,” he says before he kisses me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that's that... What did you think? Was it awful? God, I suck at fight scenes.   
> Anyway, don't forget, this isn't over yet! There's still the epilogue, which I hope will be ready sometime during the next couple of weeks.


	9. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh god, I'm so sorry this has taken forever to update. I have absolutely no excuse. But since I kept you waiting for so long, I decided to add a bonus scene at the end that I hadn't planned originally. I hope you like it!

**SIMON**

Baz didn’t break his promise after all. Things did turn out okay. At least, _way_ better than any of us expected.

The Mage – my _father_ I suppose – wasn’t executed for his crimes. Mainly because his biggest crime yet, the _Watford Tragedy_ , didn’t leave behind any evidence with which to convict him. Nicodemus, of course, wasn’t willing to testify against him, and nobody would take his word seriously anyway. But the kidnapping of one of his students (twice) and his attempt to steal my magic was enough to guarantee him a place in a psychiatric ward. (A Normal one. It’s not like he can use magic to escape. Without his tongue he can’t enunciate spells. Without meaning to, Baz has already condemned him to a fate even worse than death, which is fine by me.)

I don’t particularly care what happens to him from now on. I just want him out of my life.

Baz wasn’t killed, either. Nor was he stricken from the Book or anything like that. All it took was our testimonies and the evidence Premal had gathered that proved that he has never killed a human to get him off the hook, despite being a vampire. At first, we were all surprised. But it turned out the Coven had other plans for him.

A couple of months after that fateful night, the Coven elected the Mage’s successor. Guess who they picked.

Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch. And the vote was unanimous.

It came as a shock to everyone, including Baz, but Mrs. Bunce explained to us the real reason why they chose him. It wasn’t, of course, because he's the son of Natasha Grimm-Pitch and, according to tradition, the next in line for the position. (Even though that was what the Coven claimed.) The Old Families voted for him because they thought he was the only one who could control me. The Mage’s former supporters voted for Baz because they thought _I_ could control _him_. (Ha. If only.) As for the ones that are neutral, they just voted him because it was the best way to avoid a war. 

Baz (of fucking course) accepted, but the Coven will have to elect someone to stand in for him until he finishes his studies. They still haven't reached a decision, but it will probably have to be a neutral party.

I’m not sure how I feel about this yet. Even if the Mage turned out to be an insane radical, I still believe in his reforms and I'd hate to see them revoked. Don’t get me wrong. I love Baz, and now I know he isn’t evil like I used to think. But I still don’t agree with his political views.

Well. At least this way a war was averted. And I suppose there’s still time to change Baz’s mind until he takes up the position as head of the Coven. I’ll even recruit Penny. (Baz really values her opinion, even if he’d never admit it.)

However, this turn of events had one positive (and totally unexpected) outcome. Baz’s family are now completely supportive of our relationship. I know it’s only because it’s thanks to this relationship that he got the position as head of the Coven, but I’m not going to complain. It’s definitely a relief that Mr. Grimm isn’t out to get me. That guy is scary. (Not to mention _Fiona_.)

I also found out who my mother is. Apparently, she used to be Mrs. Bunce’s best friend at Watford. Her name was Lucy Salisbury. Mrs. Bunce talks to me about her a lot. She has even given me a photograph of her and the Mage.

Nobody knows what happened to her after my birth. Some people seem to think that she ran away to California to get away from my dad, but Mrs. Bunce doubts it. If she did, then she wouldn’t leave me behind. I don’t know what to think. In any case, I’m glad that I at least found out who she was. At least now most of the questions concerning my roots have been answered and I can stop driving myself crazy wondering about my parents. Finally, I got some closure.

The Humdrum is still on the loose and he sometimes sends dark creatures against me, but Baz and I manage to send them all away with **Ladybird, Ladybird**. Of course, this is only a temporary solution. The Humdrum is bound to change tactics now that the old ones don’t bring results. But we’re ready for that, too. We have a plan.

It was Baz who figured it out. When he told me that the Humdrum exists because of me, I wanted to go to the Coven and give myself up. Thank Merlin, Baz talked some sense into me. So, we (that is, Baz, Penny and I) started looking for alternative options. We only came up with one that could take care of the Humdrum once and for all, but neither Baz nor Penny liked it. But they know that I’m stubborn and that, if they don’t help me, I’ll do it on my own anyway. So, they decided that my odds were better with their help.

The whole plan is based on the notion that holes want to be filled. We’re not sure that that’s the case with the Humdrum, but it’s our only chance.

So, the next time the Humdrum makes an appearance, I’m going to give it my magic, the same way I occasionally share it with Baz. We’re hoping that I won’t have to give the Humdrum all of it. After all, not all of my magic came from the ritual the Mage performed on me. Both my parents were magickal, so some of this magic is my own. Hopefully, I can at least keep this portion of my magic.

In order to achieve that, I practice this magic sharing with Baz a lot. That way, when the day comes that we’ll have to put the plan in motion, I’ll be able to control the flow of the magic better, so that I’ll only give the Humdrum as much magic as it’s absolutely necessary and not more. It’s not easy, but I’m getting better all the time. We can only hope that it’ll be enough.

I still don’t know what I’ll do after I (hopefully) beat the Humdrum and cease to be the Chosen One. I’m not the Mage’s Heir anymore (which is sort of a relief). Perhaps, though, Agatha is right. I’m eighteen. I don’t have to have everything figured out. There’s no script I should be following anymore – I have already burned the old one. For the first time in my life, I’m free to make my own choices.

It’s a little scary, but I guess it’s part of growing up. And the best thing – I won’t have to do it alone. I have Baz and Penny and Agatha (even if she refuses to take part in our ‘adventures’ anymore). Against all odds, we’ve all come out of this mess alive and stronger than ever. And I guess that’s all that matters.

**BAZ**

I wait as Simon looks at Mummers House with a wistful smile. “I’ll miss this place.”

“Yeah, me too,” I agree reluctantly. There have been many moments I felt more at home in our room at Watford than at my home at Hampshire. Perhaps, though, it had more to do with the other occupant of the room than with the room itself.

“I can’t believe we’re never coming back.” He sighs deeply before he turns to look at me. “Let’s go.”

“Good idea,” I nod. “It’s not a very smart decision to keep Fiona waiting.”

Simon shudders, causing me to chuckle. “Don’t laugh!” he says indignantly, but his cheeks are a little red. “She’s quite scary when she wants to be.”

I can’t argue with that. Even though she has (grudgingly) accepted our relationship, that doesn’t mean she doesn’t take immense pleasure from intimidating the Chosen One. And she does so every chance she gets.

Still, even with the threat of my (slightly deranged) aunt, we take our time walking to the parking lot. It’s the last time we wander these grounds as students and, even though we will probably visit Watford again in the future, it won’t be the same.

I spare a glance towards the White Chapel. I already said my goodbyes to my mother yesterday, when Simon and I visited the Catacombs. I haven't had to hunt down there for a while, seeing as Headmistress Bunce has been supplying me with animal blood from the village’s butcher shop (with the permission of the Coven). But I had to visit the place one last time, to leave her some flowers and bid her farewell, after reassuring her that her murderer has been brought to justice. I hope she has finally found peace.

When we reach the parking lot, we’re faced with the unexpected sight of my aunt talking and laughing with the goatherd. These last few months, Fiona and Ebb have been trying to rekindle their friendship. It seems it’s been going well. At least, Ebb doesn’t weep as often as she used to (according to Simon). It probably helps that she’s been given permission to talk to her brother again.

Ebb smiles broadly at us when she sees us approaching. “You two took your sweet time getting here,” says Fiona disdainfully.

I cock an eyebrow at her. “It doesn’t look like you’ve been having such a bad time waiting for us.”

 She rolls her eyes. “Don’t be such a smartass, kid.”

Ebb wipes at her (once again) tearful eyes. “I can’t believe you two are leaving Watford. It feels like only yesterday when you used to wrestle at the Lawn and I had to spell you apart.”

“Hey,” says Simon putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. “We’ll visit you all the time. I promise.”

“And Chosen Ones never break their promises,” I chime in, grinning at the goatherd.

She smiles at us before she hugs us. “Be good,” she tells us before she heads back towards the hills where her goats are waiting for her.

Fiona then opens the trunk and we put our suitcases inside. We’re ready to enter the car when we hear Penny’s voice calling our names.

“You were going to leave without saying goodbye first?” she says with her arms crossed when she and Agatha reach us.

I roll my eyes. “It’s not like we’re never seeing each other again. Won’t you and Snow start apartment hunting next week?”

“And dragging us along with you, because you simply can’t do anything without us?” Agatha adds with a grin.

“Whatever,” says Penny exasperatedly. “This is the last time we’re all here as students. Shouldn’t we say goodbye to this place together?”

Simon shrugs. “I suppose you’re right.” He sighs. “I’ll really miss Watford. This has been the first place I felt I belonged.”

I snake an arm around his waist and kiss his cheek. “Well, now you have more than one place where you belong,” I say. “You know my _gothic mansion_ , as you call it, is always open for you.”

“And my home,” Penny chimes in. “And Agatha’s too.” Wellbelove nods at him with a smile.

Simon smiles sheepishly at the three of us. “Thanks, guys. It really means a lot.”

“Ugh,” says Fiona, who’s already inside the car, but has been listening to our conversation through the rolled-down window. “I’m going to barf. Keep it short, Chosen One, I don’t have all day.”

I roll my eyes. “I think your Normal boyfriend will be fine if you stand him up for a few minutes. Especially if you spell him stupid.”

She flips me off through the open window.

“She really is something, your aunt,” says Agatha, stifling a laugh.

“I guess,” I shrug.

Penny sighs, taking one last look at Watford. “Well, this is it, isn’t it?” Then she turns and grins mischievously at us. “Group hug?”

I groan, but Simon laughs and wraps his arms around me and Penny and Agatha wraps hers around my waist, so I have no choice but to participate. It doesn’t bother me as much as I act, though. It’s weird being a part of their little group now after all these years of antagonizing them, but it’s sort of nice to have people you can depend on. And I guess the three of them aren’t that bad. Even Wellbelove, now that Simon doesn’t look at her like a lovesick puppy anymore.

When we break away from the hug, Penny and Agatha bid us goodbye and head off towards their families, who are waiting for them outside their cars.

Simon and I watch them drive off, leaning against the back of Fiona’s car. We’re both reluctant to get in the car and leave forever.

“Are you sure it’s a good idea to stay in your house until Penny and I find an apartment?” says Simon nervously. “I know your family doesn’t want me dead anymore, but still. Won’t it be a little weird?”

I huff. “ _A little_ weird? It’s going to be _very_ weird. But I’m sure you can handle it, Snow. I mean, you’ve slain dragons and goblins and Crowley-knows-what-else.”

He laughs a little. “Your family is scarier than dragons and goblins, Baz.”

“Can’t argue with that,” I say before I take his hand in mine. “But now you have me.”

He’s trying hard not to grin like the idiot he is, but he fails miserably. His smile always makes something in my chest flutter. “You say that like it’s a good thing,” he teases me.

“Oh?” I raise an eyebrow. “Then I guess I should have you stay at a separate room. Oh, you’re going to _love_ the wraiths.”

His eyes widen. “There are _wraiths_ at your house?”

I grin innocently. “Not in _my_ room.”

He punches my arm. “Arse,” he says, but he’s laughing. “Fine, I’ll stay in your room. But only because of the wraiths.”

“Sure,” I say in a tone that makes it obvious I don’t believe a word he says.

He punches my arm again. “Shut up!”

“Make me.”

He laughs and cups my face. “As you wish,” he says and kisses me.

A car honk startles us and we break apart. “You’ll have plenty of time to snog after we reach Pitch Manor,” says Fiona, irritated. “Now get your arses in the car.”

I stifle a laugh. “Come on,” I say. “Time to go.”

When Fiona pulls out of the parking lot and heads out of the gate, neither of us looks back. It’s true that Watford has been a home to both of us for eight years. We’d both had rough upbringings before we got here and in this place we finally felt like we belonged.

But now we don’t need that anymore. We’re not alone, scared or lost. We’re happy and stronger than ever.

And most importantly, we have each other. And that’s the only home we need.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is it. The final chapter. *chokes up*  
> I hope you enjoyed reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it.  
> I'd like to say a big THANK YOU to all the people who left kudos and comments! You guys are awesome! <3


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